Mutant Games: Behind White Picket Fences
by Yelof530
Summary: "...but the citizens feared something other than themselves, the Capitol. They used these unique creations of people to create a new kind of Games. Made just for them. Welcome to the Mutant Games. Where nothing's normal."
1. These Are The Times Of The Games

**We're back! You know how it goes, just…different. These are the Sixteenth Annual Mutant Games, the sequel of the first Mutant Games (obviously).**

**Backstory for the Newcomers**

Horrifying. Breathtaking. Mind-bending. Humorous. Creepy. Strange. Curious. Flat-out weird.

These are just a few of the words used to describe tributes reaped for the Mutant Games. After the fall of the Capitol and rise of the Mockingjay, all had been well in Panem. For many years, citizens of the Districts lived happily and came together, integrating through each other. The Mockingjay grew old and her children grew old. The Hunger Games was a long ago memory of a gruesome history.

But the Capitol doesn't give up that easily.

Involving some uprising and the capture of District Thirteen, the descendants of the Capitol folk and Gamemakers released mayhem upon the districts. Most died within seconds of the nuclear bombs raining down upon. Others took time of sickness and future radiation to eventually silently sink into the darkness of death while lying in their bed.

Then there were those who changed.

Radiation changed their bones, their brains. And they could do things that weren't...normal. They were shunned by many, feared by all.

The Capitol found such glee in this newfound horror, and just the tiniest bit of envy. Perhaps not envy, but the citizens feared something other than themselves, the Capitol.

They used these unique creations of people to create a new kind of Games. Made just for them.

Welcome to the Mutant Games. Where nothing's normal.

**Form is on my profile, please PM submissions to keep it FF legal. I mean submissions? What? I never said submitting tributes for this story. (Go to my profile and PM, go, go, go!) **

_**Head Gamemaker P.J.**_

I twirled the lollipop in my mouth as I walked by the assembly lines taking place. The final touches of this year's Mutant Games were underway and everyone really needed to get their asses in motion. I fiddled one of the many steel rings around my fingers. A metal sort of fingerless glove wrapped around my right hand in metal chinks and loops to allow movement.

At a certain station, the workers appeared to be arguing over something. Sigh. Time for Gamemaker P.J. to come to the rescue.

"Fellas?" I asked. Instantly, all became quiet, glancing to their shoes. Some went about the item of discussion and I tapped my steel toed boots against the floor, waiting for the answer. Machines buzzed and workers moved robotically in the same rhythm.

Finally, a squat, pug faced man raised a hand. "Yes, Weiss?"

He cleared his throat, jutting a thumb to the gawky dude beside him. "Schneider dented the car."

"Because Haddler was screwing around and knocked my hand over while using the handles!" Schneider blurted impulsively. The muscled, scowling faced man crossed his arms.

"You were all fucking it up!" he roared indignantly. This sent the small cluster going again and I sighed wearily.

Shoving my purple hoodie's sleeves up to my elbows, I walked through and knelt by the noticeable dent. Wow, they really fucked this thing up. I slid the rings and glove from my hands and rubbed the shell of metal and paint. My eyes slid closed and through the clanking and yelling around me, focused in on the impression.

From beneath the smooth of my hand, I felt it gradually pop back up, forming to its usual car-ish shape.

Turning around, the group was still arguing. I rolled my eyes, patting my hands off together.

"There, fixed," I announced. But their quarrel already escalated to a height where even my firm voice couldn't snap them out.

Sigh again. Well, maybe it is better we didn't go with my first idea. If they're having trouble building crap like this now, I'd hate to know what life would be like then. But it was still a firm arena idea and it'll take some better planning upon. There's always next year.

I walked off and went over the lists again in my head. Of course, Drake had to walk by with an electronic tablet in his hands, manually checking off each item I was going over.

"The cars are good," I said. His eyes flicked up to me and he tapped that off. He was still an intern, but promoted to an assistant and Junior Gamemaker.

"Are you ready?" he asked in his usual nervous chitter. I shrugged indifferently.

"I'm always ready." In actuality, my flood was pumping. Games always brought a new flow of adrenaline. The idea of this year isn't exactly groundbreaking, not like last years, but it'll have its perks.

We came to my office and I crushed my rings up into a small round metal ball. Drake wrinkled his nose but didn't comment. Good.

Willing the metal, I moved it about the keyhole. It clicked within seconds and I ensured the door was closed behind us as we entered.

Just a few more days, I reminded myself. Few more days, than it's Games time.

**Tribute Lists (Honestly, I didn't have the mutation next to it because I didn't exactly have the patience too…you'd understand if you were sitting here)**

_**District One**_  
><em><strong>G: Alice Lynn Wonderland, 12 (Summoning of fairytale characters)<br>B: Balthizar Demarkos, 18 (Horns and fours arms)**_

_**District Two  
>G: Foe Sterling, 16 (Fire Breather)<br>B: Shale Van Newhouse, 15 (Rock Skin)**_

_**District Three  
>G: Neve Hadron, 16 (Matter manipulation)<br>B: Leon Calder, 17 (Shape shifter-Cat)**_

_**District Four  
>G: Bree Maysee, 17 (Body Control)<br>B: **__**Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, 18 (Glamour)**_

_**District Five  
>G: Brandy Harris, 14 (Shape shifter-Appearance)<br>B: Zander De La Fuente, 17 (Shape shifter-Adaptations)**_

_**District Six  
>G: Lauryn Rivera, 13 (Unknown)<br>B: Cameron Wynn, 15 (Element Manipulation)**_

_**District Seven  
>G: Silvia Arbres, 17 (Shape shift-Tree)<br>B: Cede Demeter, 17 (Grow/Shrink Items)**_

_**District Eight  
>G: Heather Aurum, 15 (Body Switch)<br>B: Brodric "Bro" Loveless, 15 (Matter Hardening…Ping/Pong)**_

_**District Nine  
>G: Poise Adriona, 13 (Increased agility)<br>B: Alix Moore, 14 (Shape shifter)**_

_**District Ten  
>G: Annabelle Hallestar, 13 (Mines of light)<br>B: Hydran Ash, 14 (Yogurt Shooting…don't ask)**_

_**District Eleven  
>G: <strong>__**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, 16 (Duplication)**__**  
>B: Lupe Ismene, 16 (Sleight of HandMad Magician Skills)**_

_**District Twelve  
>G: Avara Zenia, 17 (Dead Talking)<br>B:**_ _**Robin/Damion Garven, 16 (Control of Fire…sort of/Shadow Control)**_

_**District Thirteen  
>G: Chelsey Skyeren, 15 (Invisibility)<br>B:**__** Xavier Drascal, 15 (Shape shifter-Appearance)**_

**Two days, and I'm filled. This can really fuck with a person's brain. I admittedly tweaked some ages, but nothing too dramatic to piss you off. I loved so many, and some I felt so sad having to put aside.**


	2. District One: Straight From A Fairy Tale

**First reaping. Let's see where this goes.**

_**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One**_

"Would that be one lump or two?" I asked. The girl nodded her golden corkscrew curls and held up two smooth fingers. I added the requested amount and she took a sip, smiling.

"And you?" Hatter tipped his hat with a nod and I added three. He likes three. The other finely dressed friends sat about the table sipped their tea easily, grinning kindly at me. Well, that is, except…

"We're late." I poured another brimming glass of the steaming tea and smacked my lips, as if not hearing the words. "We're late, Ms. Alice."

I placed the teacup down on the saucer, tilting my head curiously as the colorfully dressed rabbit. "We have plenty of time, Rabbit." He rechecked his pocket watch. The cold chain glinted in the light of my gold chandelier laden with electric candles set up over my tea party area. My vast, four-poster bed took up another area of the room while most of any free space of my walls was taken up by book shelves. I swung my feet beneath my chair and shuffled in it a bit.

"Dear, we are definitely going to be late," he muttered. I sighed, pushing aside my saucer. Taking a teensy bite of my cookie, I patted off crumbs with a napkin and rose from my chair. Goldilocks, without need of instruction, strode to my vanity, collecting brushes and curlers. My reaping dress hung on a hanger on the frame of the closet door. Instantly, several birds and other woodland creatures appeared. The birds pulled it down and dropped it over me. It slid into place easily. Deer tied up the back and mice wound the strings through the back.

I made a sour face in the mirror. The other party guests had already disappeared, all except for Goldie and the White Rabbit, who hopped about anxiously.

"Dear, dear, we're late…" he mumbled. Goldie combed my hair back in their usual pigtails. She brushed them behind my ears and worked on curling the long brown strands. I scrutinized my image, sighing.

"Make it blue," I said. The elderly woman smiled and from her billowing robes revealed a wand. Sparkles of sparkling dust fell from the tip and instantly, my dress turned from pink to blue. I giggled and twirled once.

"Late!" White Rabbit piped up with. I waved away the others and they disappeared instantly.

"Oh, Rabbit, don't be so overdramatic!" I couldn't help but twirl about even more, giggling. It was so flow-y though! So nice, especially when done by mice…

A roar of a chainsaw sent my heart leaping and I screamed. Spinning about, the gruesome face of a large man stared down at me from behind a curtain of greasy black hair. I leapt onto my bed, screaming and throwing pillows uselessly at him. Their satin cases were torn apart and I jumped about. Grabbing onto the supports above my bed, I swung as if on a jungle gym and slammed my feet into the man's chest. While he hit the ground roughly with his chainsaw skittering about, I was poised atop of him, ready to strike.

The door swung open and a wholehearted laughing Mick wiped away tears. "You should have seen your face, Alice…."

"Miiiick!" I said, voice moving up and down with the one syllable. "I told you not to do that!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he blew off. The chainsaw murderer man disappeared and I stumbled slightly as I dropped the slight gap to the hardwood floor. Mick chuckled lightly under his breath. "Keeps you on your toes. Although, I should have taken a picture…."

He was knocked back with fright as a ten-foot tall hairy creature roared into his face. The Beast bared its teeth. Mick yelled in alarm, throwing his arms up to protect his face. I skipped by the two in the hallway. "Mom!" I yelled. "Mick is bothering me!"

"She pulled the fucking Beast on me!" he shouted down the halls. Beast growled, its feral claws lifting Mick up by the collar.

"Mick!" Mom called. "Leave your sister alone and don't use such language in my house!" With a grin, my brother hit the ground, no longer flailing in Beast's grip.

"You would have totally been toast though," he stated grimly. "You don't just hop on the bed shrieking. I swear I trained you better than that."

I placed my hands defiantly on my hips. "Hmph!" Adjusting such hands to behind my back, I skipped down the wide hall, which really wasn't much of a hall to the stairs which led into our kitchen.

"Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Father. Good morning, Tara, Tori!" They all stopped short from what they were saying as I pranced in. Mom laid the plate before me, her smile strained ever so slightly.

"Hello, Alice Lynn. How did you sleep?" She laid my chocolate chip pancakes (it always has to be chocolate chips) before me. I pierced a small piece, taking a bite, and then pushed the plate away.

"Finished," I announced. Everyone gave me curious, slightly annoyed looks. "I had a tea party this morning, if you had forgotten, Mom. But that's alright." An annoyed crease formed between her brows, but as my smile, hers broadened too. She wasn't sure quite how I'd act.

"Of course. Silly me." She lifted the small stack and wandered off to the trash with them. Suddenly, Mick slid in and reclaimed the breakfast.

"She may not want it, but that doesn't count me out," he said. I scowled slightly at the boy but he leaned back on the counter, shoving the already cut pieces

Tara stood, releasing her chair. "Here take my spot. I'm meeting up with Garfield any way." A muscle in Tori's jaw clenched up as our older sister strode out, waving goodbye.

Dad finished off his mug of coffee. "Paz asked if I could help him with something at his shop." He kissed Mom and tousled Tori's hair. His hand gripped Mick's shoulder but coming upon me, he hesitated.

"Goodbye, sweetheart," he said simply. I nodded with a smile, smoothing out my dress.

As Dad left, Tori began to rise. "I have to go…do something…that's not here…."

Suddenly, the White Rabbit tumbled down the steps. Mom shrieked at his sudden appearance and he fixed his askew glasses on the bridge working down to his nose. "We're late!" he called.

I tilted my head curiously at Mom and Mick. My brother shrugged, while Mom checked the wall clock.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh, dear. The Reaping starts in only a few minutes."

Suddenly, a light knock made us all snap about. No one made any attempt to answer it and restraining an eye roll, I noted with dismay, Tori strode to open it. Through the windows on the side, I spotted the blonde loose curls of Luna outside the door. I ran lightly to the entry way and shoved Tori aside. With my hands on her, she flinched, knocking her completely off her feet. She kept her arms wrapped around her head and I cocked my head at her, only to shake it.

"We're late," Luna said as I opened the door. Her white blonde curls framed her pale face, the only speck of colors the dreamy blue eyes and plush pink lips that moved slowly and spoke softly with every word.

We looped arms and I waved over my shoulder to my family. "See you real soon!" I called. The two of us passed by the small headstones set into the ground in the yard. The names of long begotten house pets, mainly dogs and cats with a ferret thrown in the mix, scratched into these stones jutting up from the ground. Their dates stopped at the time I was seven. By then, Mom and Dad had learned Cinderella strongly disliked house pets.

_**Balthizar Demarkos, District One**_

"…as for the matter of the actual of adapting the ability to, Juggling Difficulty Proficiency in juggling takes considerable hand eye coordination as well as a degree of muscular endurance. It can take anywhere from a few hours to a few weeks to learn the rudimentary techniques of three ball juggling, and from there months to master various tricks such as reverse, under the foot, etc. It has been suggested that juggling is good for mental health as it recruits brain cells and-"

Suddenly, the Peacekeeper I was talking to swatted a ball from air as I tossed it about. I kept juggling the others easily as if the disturbance were nothing. Well, truly, it was. The human mind could adapt easily, depending on circumstances, to situations as if nothing has occurred at all. I gathered together the five remaining balls and cocked my head curiously at him, a lock of curly hair falling in front of my face.

"Kid, get in your section." His thoughts were probably running along the lines of "Just another freaky mutant kid…." Humans have a tendency to judge more on common features and faults of the exterior than the actual personality within. This explains as much for 'love at first sight,' which I guess is just a level of shallowness overtaking a person. More or less that, but how the human mind works. Humans are very self-oriented creatures to begin with, survival a necessity but survival at an easy cost.

I joined the ranks of other eighteen year old, some casting me odd looks. A pair of kids leaned into each other, talking in low voices.

"I'm telling you, it'll work," one said. I recognize him from school. I wonder if he recognizes me. He glanced my way, eyes widening with some fright, but more the shock of seeing me. No matter how many times a person has seen me, it seems as if they never quite remember what I looked like and it was a shock to see me again. I never quite understand it.

"My parents would kill me if they found out, though," the other said, chewing his lip. He obviously did not enjoy the plans being suggested.

On stage, the mayor fired up the opening speech and I imagined every rise and fall, expectant pause to his voice as I had heard this speech every year since I was two.

"You said they'd be on the other side of the district. Come on man, it'll be perfect. I already booked a DJ." The pressured friend pinched his nose.

"Alright." Did it even occur to him that he booked the DJ without full consent from him? I opened my mouth to bring this point up but the reading of the first name cut me short.

The whole reaping of mutants was quite the thought. In many ways it carries symbolism much like that of the Hunger Games. In those times, the Games were to direct all attention to the Capitol's power and discourage attempts of rebellion since the Hunger Games were the result of such uprisings. The Mutant Games carry similar traditions. Whereas Hunger Games was boy and girl from each of the twelve districts, the Mutant Games has the one factor of mutation, that extra element which draws the viewers in. In its own way, the Mutant Games were designed to bring all attention back to the Capitol's power. The mutations and abilities they brought on had an intimidating quality which distracted the districts. They were an indirect result of the second rebellion as the Capitol had accidentally created these mutations with their mass destruction. It was a reminder of what the Capitol did and the Games in a way flaunt these few kids. Sure, they're dead now. But there's still those living within the districts. Those ones you always have to be weary of.

"And the female mutant who has the chance of glory and fame in District One is…Luna Lanceworth!"

A lanky, dreamy eyed twelve year old staggered to the stage. Her face steeled over and she stared out at the crowd, twirling a loose curl nervously around a finger.

"Volunteers?"

A girl's hand shot up and she marched up to the stage. Actually, more like a skip. A fancily dressed rabbit followed behind her, I think actually speaking frantically. The girl's princess-like floated behind her as she walked. Upon the stage, she wrapped her arms around Luna before taking the spot on the stage.

Hmm, must be a friend. It probably would have been wisest to just wait one more moment for any other Careering volunteers. Although, volunteers aren't as common in the Mutant Games as was Hunger Games. Last year for example, with Kazu. We were the same age and he sat and ate lunch at my table often, never even had a lunch with him. No one else hung out with him, but I'm not a prime example of popularity myself.

The girl onstage couldn't be older than twelve, but my first predictions would have said even younger. But she didn't appear too scared, bold and confident in that way.

"Oh, what a lovely and ambitious young girl!" the escort squealed. "Name?"

"Alice Lynn Wonderland!" she stated clearly in a babyish young voice. The escort was eating this up, but it seemed a relaxed sigh of relief passed over the twelve year old section and even other sections. Strange, these Games are a real eye opener on people. It's interesting in that way. Sometimes, you find the true nature of people when they're in there. My curiosity clanked together and I shuffled from side to side, weight shifting from foot to foot. I've had the occasional question of a passerby peer who asked if I were interested in volunteering. I usually just answered, "If the moment is right," and they would cast an off, wrinkle-nosed look or constrained an emotion of disappointment.

"Knight Lara!" One of the two boys from before, the one being pressured in, widened his eyes. His friend's eyes widened as well and he instinctively backed away from him.

"You never said you were a mutt," he accused. Knightly shuffled through the crowd. I thought to the look of disappointment. This kid had friends and soon to be pissed of parents. And he surely didn't fully comprehend all of which came with these Games.

Slowly, I found one of my hands rising into the air. "I volunteer!"

With a certain amount of my own thoughts and memories of others thoughts, I gathered up this confidence. I strode onto the stage beside the girl, who blinked at me with wide sea-green eyes. Her pigtails and those eyes gave her a look of innocence, and she probably gets everything she wants. She definitely didn't understand the commitments of volunteering.

"Balthizar Demarkos, eighteen." It took a certain amount of slow pronunciation and spelling for her to get it down.

"Now for their mutation revealing!" the escort called majestically. Her eyes landed on me before darting down to the girl.

"I'll go first!" I offered. "It's so interesting, because you'd expect radiation to sort of wear away, at least be lethal, and you wouldn't think it's possible for the power to be erupted by force in such way-"

"No, Alice may go. I believe you mutation speaks for itself." I rubbed my head oddly, feeling the horns atop and gripped my other pair of hands behind me.

"Are you sure?" the woman nodded, roughly tugging me aside. I was itching to look inside but as I tried to inch towards the machine, two muscly dudes hauled me back by the upper set of arms. I easily hopped down and crept back forward and they glanced between me and each other.

"I'm curious, and a little strong," I shrugged. And I learned something else that day. Tugging a blue cord out of the back of a mutation detector machine could cause quite the explosion.

**So, if not clear, Alice can summon characters from storybooks. And Balthy has horns and fours arms.**


	3. District Two: The Long Straw

**I got a necklace for Christmas. Do you know what was on it? It was a panda.**

_**Shale Van Newhouse, District 2**_

_Do not cross._ I ducked under the sign. I'm easily the smallest of our trio and when on one of our quarry adventures, am the one to go ahead and try to clear a path. I realized I'm probably early to our gathering spot but I couldn't stand to be home any longer. Father was especially crotchety and gruff today; Mom as well with her nervous uneasy glances my way. I can never understand the shamefaced flicker of her eyes my way. There were plenty of things I didn't understand in my family. I was the black sheep, obviously.

Finding our spot a little ways back, I found Kindle already sitting with her knees pulled up into her chest, gazing across the water that filled up the quarry. Her raggedy brown hair was pulled to the nape of her neck and she picked uselessly at the line of dirt beneath her nails. I slid down beside her, waving.

"Merry Reaping," I greeted. She waved back, pulling her knees in tighter.

"You're early," she commented. I shrugged, rolling some pebbles around in my hand. Her eyes narrowed onto me and I kept my composed smile. "And hurt."

She inched forward and ran a hand over the developing bruise on my forehead. I swatted her away. "You're early too. I would have been earlier if John wasn't being such a dick this morning." Kindle rolled her eyes. She was probably up earlier getting some last minute running in. I admittedly flaked out on my morning training.

"What, did you accidentally call him Frederick again?"

I threw shuffled in on my bottom to throw my arm around her shoulder, grinning. "Maybe. But the said brother did deserve the full mouthful of rock he got."

Kindle elbowed me in the ribs and in the same moment, I perceived a low whistle traveling down the tunnel. Roran stumbled into sight a few moments later. His classic old shoulder bag swung at his side and lips curled as he whistled.

"Hey," he called. His towering and awkward stance left him with an almost naturally stooped back. Kindle shifted on her bottom to the side, allowing Roran to sit with us in a circle. He squatted and adjusted to a comfortable sitting position. Roran eased off his shoulder bag and flipped off the front flap.

When the object passed onto me, I rifled through, passing Kindle a warm soda and one for myself. I offered a third to Roran but he declined. Not exactly sure how he got his hands on a luxury like this, but it was probably for the better that I didn't know.

"Today's agenda?" Kindle asked. I reached inside the bag and revealed a hacky sack.

"Right now?" I stood, kicking the ball over to Roran. "We play." The bean bag smacked him square in the face with the light trickling sound of the tiny beans. I laughed broadly, and Kindle and Roran joined in.

Roran kicked up the sack, at least, attempted to. His foot skidded along the rock and Kindle swept in, guiding the colorful sack towards me. I managed to bat it back with the inside of my foot and it Roran made a very noteworthy effort at kicking it but his timing was rushed. It fell to the ground and I laughed heartily.

"Nice move, Ror," I chuckled. He shrugged, picking the hacky sack up, along with his bag. His hands rummaged through and from it emerged some straws. Just loves to cut straight to the point.

"We're still doing this, right?" he asked apprehensively. Roran rubbed awkwardly at his head, shifting his back slightly to keep it from becoming stiff.

"Of course," I said. We're three peas in a pod. The abandoned quarry was our hangout spot and home to many of memories. Life isn't too long, so why live your life crappily? We were a ragtag bunch, Shale Van Newhouse, Kindle Chip and Roran Hammer (he made his last name up himself…not one to possess much imagination).

Roran revealed the straws from his bag. There were two, one cut in half to make it three. Kindle chewed her lip, swishing down a swig of flat soda.

Kindle held her hand out and Roran placed the straws gently in the palm. She straightened them with the ends sticking out even. Her hands rolled them about, mixing up the longest of the three from the shortest.

"Ready guys?" she asked. I nodded confidently. Roran…not so much.

It was a pact, I guess you would call it, we made. None of our current situations were exactly happy and cheery. Kindle came from a low income family and is at the point of dropping out of school. Roran, two years older than both of us, is an orphan with no past. Me…well, I got your good old-fashioned "my father hates me!" and other crap. You should see the way he looks at me though. Like I was an intruder in his household or something. I'm not like him or my older brothers. Sometimes, I feel sort of jealous of those two. They have a weird brother bond and Dad seems to like them a whole hell of a lot better.

With this in mind, I grabbed the first straw my fingers touched. We were best friends. If one of us won the Games, it would make a hell of a difference. Roran would have a future, Kindle wouldn't be worrying about her next meal and I'd probably be something in my household except for some kid who eats their food.

My heart picked up; but for excitement or fear? A little of both, I'd say. Whoever volunteered would have the weight of the others on them. We had our faults. Roran was easily the biggest, but I somehow took up the strength, possibly most of the brains. Roran named himself Hammer…enough said. Kindle had speed but her mutation wasn't much. Ups and downs for all of us.

I pulled out the straw as Roran grabbed his own and we all too in a quick breath of anticipation. I squeezed my eyes shut and eased them open again to see the straw. I fingered mine, slipping it into my drink.

"To my volunteering!" I toasted, sucking on the long straw. The plastic tasted like dirt and hand sweat but I zealously sipped on the soda. Everything happens for a reason. If I weren't meant to do something worthwhile, this wouldn't have happened.

Kindle raised up her own soda, grinning, while Roran nodded solemnly. "Cheers." We sucked from it and both of us wrinkled our noses.

"Where did you get this soda anyway?" Kindle asked. Roran shrugged.

"The dumpster behind the grocer." We spewed the soda, rushing to the water flooding the quarry to wash our mouths out. The taste of minerals and pebbles lapped through my mouth. Great way to start the day.

_**Foe Sterling, District 2**_

The heavy bag twirled on its chain with every strike raining down upon it. I bobbed to the left, coming in with a right undercut. My hips twisted to drive a roundhouse elbow around with my opposite arm, swaying back lightly on my feet to regain the distance. Every light padding sound of the heavy bag comforted me and the beat of my heart and shuffle of my feet played a steady rhythm.

"Foe!" a voice shouted down. I blinked suddenly and smacked the bag in an awkward position. I rubbed my wrist, scowling at the disruption. Damn Sprite.

"Foe!" There goes concentration. The annoyance became apparent now in her voice, not as composed as her sweet little first 'Foe.' I took my sweet time unwrapping my, well, hand wraps. My white tank stained with sweat, grubby gray gym shorts ridden with holes, and pin-straight almost black dark brown hair stuck to my face. I laid my hands atop of my head, taking my sweet time resting.

At the sound of feet pounding down the steps, I pulled back on my elbow with my arm behind my head, stretching. Legs appeared from where the basement ceiling ended and I gathered together a snarky smile. It quickly fell and I sighed resignedly.

"Foe, why are you ignoring your sister? She was calling for you." Constrain eye roll…

"Sorry, Mom," I said in a low tone. "I'll be up after I finish getting dressed." Mom raised a finger to commence yelling. Seeing my opportunity, I feigned a sudden tickle of my nose and widened my mouth as if about to sneeze. Mom's slender frame couldn't pound up the stairs fast enough. I chuckled to myself, climbing the steps to lock the door. Gets her every time.

Ah, my room, the basement. It was nice. There was my heavy bag set up in one area with other training equipment. Beyond that was my room with all bedroom items. I spend more time in this area though. You'd expect a secluded basement to me a horrible idea for a teen girl. If I were someone like Sprite, yeah, it would be. The thought made me hug my heavy bag.

I showered in the tiny bathroom and raked my fingers through the layers. My ears stung red just the tiniest bit as I hooked my earrings in. My hair was already halfway dry by the time I slid on my reaping dress.

When I scaled the stairs again, I was met by haughty faces and curled lips. I sat down slowly, peering at the breakfast set out for me.

"What did you put in this?" I asked carefully. Mom shook her head at me, everyone unresponsive.

"What are doing after the reaping today, honey?" Sprite primly dotted her lips with a napkin. She barely even took a bite.

"Jax invited me to his parent's house. They seem to really like me." Mom and Dad leaned in intrigued. I rolled my eyes, sifting through the cereal. It was shoddy looking, gray and soggy. I hate soggy cereal.

"How 'bout we go shopping for a new outfit for you, just for the occasion?"

"Because none of your stripper outfits will suffice," I mumbled. Sprite's nearly black eyes (like my own) narrowed upon me.

"What was that?" she snipped. I raised my eyes back up and my parents were already glaring at me.

"If I repeated that statement, you'd just yell at me," I stated. Ah, there's the roach. I plucked it from my spoon, flicking it over my shoulder. I pull a bug from my bowl and my parents don't do anything. It's sort of scary how unfazed I am over it.

"Foe, you are always so mean and negative on your sister," Dad said in a serious tone.

I grumbled, "Tell her that."

The man went on with Mother only giving me the lightest of glares. She was a beautiful woman, if she just didn't scowl so much at me, maybe she'd have less wrinkles.

"In a few years' time, you'll miss-"

"In a few years' time, I'll be living in Victor's Village." In an undertone, I added, "Or six feet under."

Mom and Dad sighed. Of course, they don't believe I'll actually volunteer. They don't care what the hell I do. It's one of those 'phases.'

Sprite leaned back on the countertop, arms crossed over her chest. She is everything perfect outcasts (like me) hate in a person. In school she was a cheerleader dating all the hottest guys who'd fight over her and her perfect hair and curved body. I look just like her…but different. Yes, that makes plenty of sense.

"As I was saying before," Sprite sniffed. "I'm going over Jax's house. First, I'll be swinging by the Justice Building to finish some forms, being the mayor's youngest ever secretary-"

"Okay, I'm leaving," I groaned as I stood. "Sprite and her ego are getting to me again." Really, who doesn't love Sprite? Hello me, the one percent.

I walked out the house without even a mere glance my way. Marching from the house, I passed by the mailbox. The metal was painted on neatly with a pretty little design of a flower. I rifled through the various bills, flyers and other letters. And invitations.

I gathered together all of Sprite's notes and mail. Great target practice, I may add. Closing the door of the box, I strolled onto the reaping, tossing up each envelope one by one. The familiar twitch of heat tickled at my nose and the smoke blew out from between my lips. With every twirling piece of mail, I spat a burning breath of fire at the paper. People skirted about me as I passed. I honestly didn't give a damn.

As the last burning piece flitted to the ground, an angry red in the face man charged up to me. The Peacekeeper squared his shoulders off, gathering the show of looking tough.

"Public displays of mutations are forbidden without proper authorization or reasons." Another new law set up. After the mayor's breakdown from last year, she's gone anti-mutts. I guess her daughter was the only one giving her any biased feelings to treat them as equals. But no. She died going half-psycho in last year's Games. The girl regenerated faster than that of a normal human. Basically, she was indestructible. Although, when she suffocated on the girl from Twelve's flames and smoke. Everyone needs air to breathe.

The mayor was able to stabilize anti-mutation laws all through Panem. Some districts enforce it more heavily than others. It's said the Head Gamemaker actually was against these rulings. I have no idea why.

"Whoops," I said mutely. Without any further word, I shoved past him into the sixteen year old section.

I stood, glaring as a camera scanned by as it shoved close into my face. Hot air blew from my mouth and the edges of plastic melted in the camera.

Giggling girls over to my right whispered to themselves. My eyes narrowed upon them. "What?" I snapped fiercely. The group backed away, ignoring me.

The opening speech started and I picked at little pieces of lint on my dress. Blah blah blah, Dark Days, Rise of the Mockingjay, Capitol's Retake. And…show time.

The escort with an uneasy grin sifted her hand through the bowl of names. Last year's tributes were promising, just not…sane.

"Candle Linwood." A red in the face young girl emerged from the fourteen year old stumbled up. She looked like she was hyperventilating. With a sigh I raised my hand as volunteers were requested.

"I volunteer," I called. When I mounted the stage, the escort's purple eyes scanned over me, purple lips pursed. "Foe Sterling, age sixteen." I blew up a spiral of fire above my head. "Can we go now?"

Mayor Faye's face paled as the smoke flew up. The escort shrugged, rummaging through the boy's bowl.

"Roran-"

"I volunteer!" I giddy voice shouted. A rather small compact fifteen year old climbed the stage next to me, already zoned on with his abilities. His stone eyes flickered a wink towards me and I rolled my eyes as he gave his name.

"Well, uh, I am proud to announce the tributes of District Two; Foe Sterling and Shale Van Newhouse!"

We were lead off into the Justice Building. I eyed the boy strangely.

"You can power down now, kid," I said. He scowled slightly, I guess at my calling him kid.

"Sort of can't. Can turn it on but can't turn it off," he said uneasily. The stones meddled back into him and the dark-haired, swarthy skinned kid was revealed beneath it. "Okay, we're good now."

"Yes," I said emotionlessly. "You know you'll die fast if that happens in the arena, right?" Shale glared at me with steel gray eyes.

"Thanks for the comment."


	4. District Three: Extra Credit

_**Leon Cabler, District 3**_

I yawned, standing and stretching my back. The familiar radiating warmth of the sun's rays shined down on me, an unusual sensation in a place like District Three. The factories must be working just a bit slower to emit just a bit less smog than normal, and the sky is being just a bit more forgiving with its weather. The fact I was perched at one of the highest points of the district did play a factor as well.

It's not like I was trying to get out of the house. Mom was actually out making an early morning run to the school to finish grading some papers before the reaping. She's really absorbed herself into her work since Dad died from a heart attack. Byron, when he decides to act like a dick, cackles that he had the 'heart of a bull.' Tobias, my older brother, was still asleep when I left early. He's working on moving out, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.

My feet pranced slightly on the metal roofing. The weight of my body shifted about and I leapt from the building. My tiny paws scrabbled along the shelf of a window before pounding off along the next wall. I sprang in an almost graceful arch to each new position. I finally landed upon the concrete ground. All feeling of warmth or sunshine was gone.

I padded along the sidewalk, snaking through the feet of passersby. The dress skirts of females brushed over my head and I couldn't help but sneeze while passing under one lady and her intoxicating perfume.

On one of those uncomfortable benches near the bus stop (which no one ever takes, so its purpose constantly spikes my curiosity) sat my friend Sigmund. Most of his friends just call him Sig.

I hopped up into his lap and with a jerk of surprise, he smiled down at me.

"Why hello there little buddy," he grinned. "What brings you here?"

I purred as he scratched between my shoulder blades. He can make a cat a happy creature.

"Better find a spot to change back," Sig whispered. "They'll skin you alive if you're caught wandering around like this. You know the laws."

Sighing, I trudged behind a square plot of bushes which gave me enough coverage. I breathed out slowly, focusing in on growing in size. It took a second, but I felt my line of sight elevate. My tail shrunk back in and the hair as well.

I popped back into sight, dressed in my suit and nice pair of loafers. "No Cat Man here," I said, brushing my hands off on my slacks to take a seat beside him.

"When do you think Byron will show?" Sigmund asked. He chewed at his thumbnail, eyes shifting about as if the boy would appear from thin air.

"I'll say on four legs and wet nosed." We stood, and on cue, a chocolate lab trotted by, a bar of chocolate in its mouth. The sight was redundant in a sense. Its bright brown eyes blinked at us and with a sigh, we both jutted a thumb back behind us.

"Behind the bush." The creature barked, fumbling with its chocolate. He disappeared behind said bush. Unlike my entrance, a small group of Peacekeepers and the candy shop owner sprinted past. The sound of their heavy boots striking concrete, along with the shopkeeper's lighter ones, carried off. Byron popped back up, his short tousled hair sticking up oddly in different directions.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he grinned wolfishly through the chocolate bar in his mouth. Byron walked around to stand beside us in the path.

"At least I'm not doing that," I said in a low tone to Sig. Byron pursed his lips, tearing the wrapping off his bar and taking a bite.

"I guess you're right," Sig shrugged. Shoving my hands in my pockets, we unceremoniously started off towards the reaping.

"You'd expect a guy who's a dog to be allergic to chocolate," I said. Byron let the wrapping flutter free along the sidewalk.

"You'd expect a guy who was part cat to lick himself more often." Byron seemed proud of himself for this comeback. I trailed my fingers along the various poles we passed. Children ran by, giggling and playing tag. Suddenly, Byron jumped in front of them. A harsh bark emitted from his throat. The children instantly screamed, running as fast as their short legs could carry them.

I shook my head at the boy. "You're going to end up arrested."

Byron smirked at me. "Hasn't happened yet. We'll worry about that when it does." At least some scary dog man was the least of those kids' worries.

Sig stood between us, eyes flicking back and forth as he listened quietly. At this point, we came upon the town square, which was shaped more in a circle. Sigmund branched off into the sixteen year old section. A Peacekeeper paced by, his face red from shouting orders for them to get in line. It seemed like a specific group was giving the guy a hard time.

I breathed, retaining my calm façade. Stay calm.

_**Neve Hadron, District 3**_

I knocked lightly on the classroom door, peaking head in. "Mrs. Cabler?" The woman's eyes flickered up to me from her papers. Worry lines creased her pale skin and she squinted behind her reading glasses to see me.

"Neve," she smiled as my face became clearer. "Good morning, well, as good as it could be."

I smoothed out my reaping dress. "I was wondering about that extra credit assignment. When could I get it in for you?"

Mrs. Cabler slid her glasses off, her blue eyes smiling at me. "Shouldn't you be on your way to the reaping? Talking to your friends?"

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I just need to know."

Mrs. Cabler nudged aside her paperwork, resting her elbows on the table. "Anytime is fine. If you're done with it, you could drop it off after the reaping."

"Okay." Of course, she knew I already finished it.

"Good luck today," she called as I left. Luck won't help me.

Closing the door behind me, I brushed a loose strand of hair from my eyes. "Hello, Neve," the janitor waved at me, pausing to rest on his broom. Even on Reaping Day, he had to come in.

"Hi," I nodded curtly. The worn cotton of my skirt brushed the high part of my calf as I walked. As I pushed back the school doors, sun streamed down through the smog of Three down upon the dreary sight. I think we're the only district that needs street lamps on during the day. My feet clicked ever so slightly on the pavement as they ambled down the path.

I had woken up early, like any morning, to find Mom up and about. She mumbled under her breath to herself as she ran over the numbers on the sheets. I poured myself a glass of questionably dated milk and sipped sparingly at it.

A few minutes later, Dad trudged in. His robe hung untied on his lean frame. Holes dotted his t-shirt and the edges of his shorts frayed. He smirked at my humorously shamefaced expression.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He spoke it to no one specifically and Mom leaned in to kiss him.

"Oh, and you too, Electra." She finally brought her eyes up, lips pursed at him. I smiled, downing the rest of my glass.

My day went on with its usual schedule. Brushed my teeth, got dressed, pinned my hair back from my eyes. I was tempted to take my extra credit with me when I passed by the school, but if Mrs. Cabler hadn't been there, I'd been stuck carrying around my homework.

Leaving school, I strolled silently to the reaping. It seemed as if more names were piling into the bowl every year, which says some. In the Mutant Games, there is no tesserae option. Instead, when first eligible for the Games, a mutant is given seven slips. So someone such as myself who had first discovered their mutation at the age of seven would have seven slips at their first reaping at age twelve. Each year of being reaped, one slip is taken away.

Now, there are those who discover their abilities later in life. Let's say you have someone who suddenly develops the ability to read minds or, I don't know, shoot fire from their butt at the age of sixteen. Then they'd have seven slips at sixteen and five by the time they were eighteen. This is meant to make someone who just discovered their abilities more likely to be reaped. And the Capitol finds a sick joy in those who don't exactly have full control in their newfound abilities trying to use them and sight for their life.

I slipped into my pen of the reaping, shrugging my shoulders back and standing straight. Girls chatted avidly around me. Some had a rigid shape to their spine which gave away all their nerves. Calm, I thought to myself.

Our one and only Victor stood to the side, hands gripped behind himself. You'd expect a technopath or a metal user of the sorts. Angele Periling can absorb the abilities of other mutations. It's not permanent, and he it isn't as strong as the original bearer, but it's still intimidating for a mutt. He won his Games by teaming up with the stronger competitors and using their own mutations against them without them realizing it.

Our escort, with that overbearing, giddy atmosphere that gives you the idea he's 'fresh from the academy,' waltzed up to the bowls after the speech was read. He dug his hand about through the bowl and I shook my head. Can someone help the guy?

Angele stepped up, tapping the man's shoulder. Speaking in a low tone, the escort's microphone in hand still picked up his "Other bowl."

The man sheepishly picked hi hand up from the bowl he was digging around and dropped it into the other one. I sighed ruggedly. This was wasting time.

Finally put together, he sifted his hand through the girl's bowl. A suggestive intake of breath went over the crowd and I retained all eye contact on the escort.

"Neve Hadron." Several of the girls who recognized the name looked towards me. I breathed outwards slowly, blinked once, and then nodded, taking a step forward. At least, attempted to. With the first jolt of shock at hearing my name, the bottom of my shoes melted to the pavement, along with several of the girls around me. I manually jerked my feet up, marching past the Peacekeepers coming in to herd me in. They were awfully cautious. The whole fiasco from last year cost one of the men their life.

The escort offered me a hand, to either shake or help me onstage. I brushed by him, taking to the task at hand.

"Uh, onto the gentlemen!" he announced after requesting for volunteers. I raised my chin, focusing on the crowd before me. The girls were calming down. The ones whose shoes I melted were wrinkling their noses at their feet. One disappeared from sight as she toppled over.

He paused again and I pressed my lips together. They can never get on with it, can they?

"Leon Cabler." The name sparked some familiarity in me. This was only confirmed as the new male tribute of District Three walked forward. He appeared calm, but I knew he was terrified inside. His dark hair curled by his forehead and a small beard grew on his chin. He only acknowledged me, and I with him, by locking onto my gaze for moment as he froze in his designated spot on the stage.

I may have to kill my teacher's son. Maybe I should have gotten that extra credit assignment in sooner.

"Now to reveal their mutations." Being called first, I was gestured towards the machine set up behind us. The lights and buttons on it were most likely for show. Without hesitation, I stepped into it, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, all the streetlamps running circling the square within a five hundred radius shattered. People screamed and I flinched at the sounds. No one probably knew I was a mutt. It's a rare find nowadays for people to proudly come out openly with their mutation. And if you're someone like me, they'll just hate you.

Leon stepped in as the crowd silenced. His tall frame, a few inches above six foot, shrunk down to a black cat. Mainly girls 'aw'-ed at this display and the escort advanced closer wearily.

"I give you the tributes of District Three; Neve Hadron and Leon Cabler!"

**Neve can 'manipulate matter' while Leon's a cat.**


	5. District Four: Sneak Attack!

**Something I've noticed; in the past two of my SYOT's, one of the District Four tributes were betrayed by a fellow Career with a blade to the gut. Huh…**

_**Bree Maysee, District 4**_

Leysia swung the training sword in an arch from the left. I reached up to block it easily, catching it in the prongs of the trident. The shaft was positioned in a way that cross blocked her next sweep of the sword as she awkwardly pulled it from trident. I smacked Leysia's temple, a serious strike, with the shaft, twirling the weapon around. The pointed tips hovered and inch by her throat. She swallowed uneasily, hands raised defenselessly.

"Sneak attack!" Without the need of turning around, I lowered the trident, instead jutting it backwards into Tanner's gut. He hit it hard and I heard all the breath clear out of him.

"You don't announce 'sneak attack' when you're about to attack, genius," I stated. Planting the trident to the ground of the training gym, I wrapped my arm through the prongs, the middle one in the crook of my elbow with my wrist dangling off. I leaned my head on this same middle one and the familiar slightly rusted metal of it comforted me.

"What's the point of practicing with weapons anyway?" Leysia asked. She removed her training helmet, her straight bronze hair tumbling out. "You can just make all the tributes stab themselves."

I laid a hand on my hip, smirking sideways. "But there isn't any glory in that, now, is there?"

Honestly, I can't completely rely on the mutation one hundred percent of the time. It's not so cut and paste. And seriously, being able to show I killed them myself instead of some weird force? I can totally win this any way.

Not everyone trains as openly. Although, in District Four and I believe District One as well, the display of abilities is welcomed and encouraged. Still, there were hopeful teens standing by, training, just like me. I was here last year, and the year before. The Games will be a breeze. From a few years of watching there's a few topics and strategies to keep your eyes open for. Last year's District Four tributes were awful. Got caught up in all that emotional drama and the girl idiotically trusted in the District One chick. Wow, and get this; neither of them was here, up early training. From what I remember, the, Rodney, I think it was, was having stupid swimming races in the ocean.

The Training Center was slowly and gradually clearing out as the giddy candidates went home to prepare themselves for the possibly long day ahead of them. I was one of the last to leave as I hung my gear on the hooks in my locker. Leysia and Tanner waited outside, Tanner sweet-talking a girl nearby. I'm guessing it went well because she left giggling and Tanner rather pleased.

Passing the sleeping attendant at the front desk, I glanced one last time at the gym. An old Victor, Alecto Aquitaine, laughed heartily before grunting in pain. His younger brother, who's here more often than me, grinned victoriously. He quickly sprinted away some into the locker room. Alecto chased after him.

"Dammit," Leysia pouted. "The better not fuck up the place again. Do you remember the mess they left last time?"

"But with all the moolah they have," Tanner rubbed his fingers together in the universal symbol of money, "they can pay off that daddy of yours in no time. Plus, Santiago and his, how did you put it, Ley? Oh yeah, 'amazing hazel eyes and those adorable freckles'-"

"Shut it," Leysia growled between her teeth. The door swung closed and both my friends jerked to a stop as our old friend stepped in the path. I rolled my eyes.

The large black dog barked once at us. The menacing sharp sound has gotten old and I stepped around it. Ley, after a shake of her head, raised her chin and stepped a little more carefully about it. Tanner pressed himself to the tropic plants growing by the entrance and skittered away as soon as he could.

"You're such a baby," I scoffed. He pressed his lips together and yelped as he saw the dog to still be watching.

"The demon dog is always watching. He smells the fear of his prey."

My house was on the other side of town. In recent years, my parents have become distant in a way. Surprise, surprise, it started happening when I was fourteen, when I somehow managed to make my mother slap herself in a fight. It was actually funny. She didn't think so.

Ley's house, on the other hand, was conveniently nearby. Her family owned the Training Center, at least, managed it. The Capitol owns pretty much everything.

I waved to several kids from school passing by, not spending much time to dawdle on conversation.

"I heard Santiago is volunteering," Ley stated in a low tone. I rolled my eyes yet again.

"He's obviously not training for his health," I said. "But he's not too big. I could take him."

Ley and Tanner laughed nervously. I promptly tossed a lock of wavy bronze hair behind my shoulder. I wasn't going to let some guy or any person who may be an intimidation factor get in my way. I was winning this.

_**Santiago Aquitaine, District 4**_

I slid into the locker room, reviewing my options. Alecto could wipe me out at a hand-to-hand combat exchange. Best bet would probably catch him when he least suspects it.

For better measure, I pulled my shoes off and shoved them haphazardly beneath a shower curtain, the kicked the "Caution: Wet Floor" sign to the side. The door crashed back, hitting the wall and I made myself scarce. Grabbing onto a support and a locker, I hauled myself up, escaping through the slight gap between the wall and ceiling in the wall set above the area for the nineteen and above changing area for people who come to the Training Center for some apparent reason. No one was occupying the section and I laid low.

"Sandy Sandy Sandy, come on out," he teased. I simply ignored him, peering out around a corner. He was heading straight for where I wanted.

Grabbing a mop sitting in a bucket (this janitor seriously sucks), I crept carefully towards my brother. He came back into sight again, leaning over to peek beneath the curtains.

"Nice try, Sandy." He tugged the curtains back, a triumphant grin on his face. It fell quickly as he found there to be lack of me and I began chuckling.

Alecto spun around at the sound. But the sudden movement sent his feet slipping and after some attempts at trying to gain his balance, he face planted the floor.

"Clean up on aisle one," I grinned. Taking the mop, I stepped closer, swishing it in his face. The guy spit and blew in disgust.

"I'll get you for that one," he hissed. His hand grabbed my mop and with a hard toss, took me off my feet. I slammed the tile fall, crumpling to the floor.

"Now we're even," I said simply. "Now let's go."

Having stayed a little later, and expecting as much, I changed into my reaping suit hanging neatly in my locker after a quick shower. Alecto was already dressed and leaning on the wall beside the door.

"You go ahead," I instructed. "You have to be there early any way." He shrugged and slipped through the door. I noted the look of annoyance at the developing bruise on his forehead and I chuckled again.

I packed my stuff up, locking it up. Next time I open it up, I'll be a Victor.

The Games aren't too complicated if you don't overthink them. My mutation can certainly come in handy. If the Careers are anything like last year's it'll be easy. Then the rest of the tributes, which can be taken out easily. The Victor from last year only killed one person, and it was more for revenge. He's also a panda, but no one talk about that. Avoid the psychos and earn trust, it'll be easy. That's what kills them; emotional ties. I can easily make such but cutting them off won't hurt me in the least.

I ran a hand through my hair, messy and tangled. Girls love it though. I shoved my hands into my pockets, strolling out. No one was even around anymore, already moving towards the reaping. I signed my name off on the sign-in sheet and the attendant scowled at me.

"A little late, sonny, don't you think? I should charge you for overtime," she barked. The mole on her chin wobbled about as she spoke and her greasy hair hung in her acne dotted face, although, she had to be in her early thirties.

"I'm sorry, just wouldn't want myself coming out looking like a mess," I smoothed over. I good see her face lightening up as I worked in the charm. Leaning in on my elbow, I blinked my eyelashes innocently. The way she envisioned my face was gradually changing to that of what she'd want to see, which a part of the mutation is.

"I think I could understand," she clucked dreamily. I laid the pen back on the clipboard, slowly stepping back. "I guess I'll let that charge slip this time."

"Thank you," I smiled. "You must be on your way to the reaping too." She nodded, getting up from her desk. The keys for the place jingled on her hip and I opened the door grandly for her. She smiled, pleased and I bowed as she walked by. Sure, maybe laying it on a little thick.

The woman flinched back in fear as I walked past. Cabell barked and growled once at her but I scruffed the mutt's ears. His tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and he plodded along beside me.

"Big day, Cabell," I said. "Going to volunteer."

The large black animal, as if understanding my words, whimpered. I think he did understand what I said. Damn, I'm sounding like the panda kid. Unlike him, I don't carry out full conversations with Cabell. He's still a dog.

"Don't worry, bud, I'll be back. I always come back." He barked once and licked my pant legs. It was way too warm to be wearing this.

The salty ocean air of Four tickled my nose. When I strolled up finally, the escort already was fishing for the girl's name. Alecto stood at the back of the stage and seeing me, rolled his eyes. I shrugged, sending Cabell off after giving him a final goodbye hug.

"See you around, Cabell," I whispered. He licked my face, much to surrounding girls' delight and I smoothly stepped into my section with my hands behind my back.

Cabell looked longingly over his shoulder once. I shooed him on, a little sad myself. I'll probably miss him the most in the arena.

A slim, on the tall side girl raised her hand upon the request of volunteers and the escort pointed for her to come to the stage.

"Bree Maysee, seventeen years old," she said. Huh, I've seen her training before. She can do that weird thing with people's bodies, control them. Not get into their heads like…blood bending, in a sense. She's the puppet master and can pull the right strings to make them move the way she wants. Someone to watch out for, that's for sure.

"Now for the gentlemen." The escort stood on her tiptoes as she swirled her hand through the massive bowl. I had my hand in the air already.

"I volunteer!" The escort scowled at being interrupted. But recognizing me, she gestured for me to stand beside her.

"Santiago Aquitaine, good to see you," she grinned. Unlike most escorts, she wasn't dreadfully annoying. Had her quirks.

I nodded kindly and Alecto smiled proudly at me. "Now for the display of our tributes' abilities."

Bree took the liberty of going into the machine first. With hands moving slightly as she concentrated, her eyes rested on me for a moment, as if making a decision. Her sea-green gaze flicked to the escort. Instantly, she began spinning in place.

"Whoa!" she yelped. Her arms whipped around and she clapped. I covered my laughing features and the district was alight with laughter. As a big finale, Bree willed for our escort to dance, arms waving above her head.

I offered a hand for our dizzied escort as Bree stepped from the machine. A cocky smirk crossed her features and I smirked myself. I know one of her weaknesses then.

**Sandy's mutation is hard to explain…I would think of it as making himself appear better look, or more intimidating, scary looking, etc. Not dramatically, as in completely different, just how a person perceives him. Understanding enough?**


	6. District Five: Paging Dr Zander

**District Five. You know what that means.**

**For those who don't, it is the home of our previous Victor, Aries Prospero, whose mutation was the ability to summon pandas. Yes, pandas. He charmed his way into our hearts with his witty dialogue and point of view. He's also now a panda himself after a slight screw up (way to go, Erone…)**

_**Zander De La Fuente, District 5**_

My hand flinched back at the sudden shock of pain. I sucked on my fingers, closing the power box. I should have worn gloves, better yet added scales or something to my skin. There's probably some oil that can be produced from my skin that works….

I glanced over my shoulder, finding Mrs. Patterson waiting nearby. She always had this good-natured look to her and even on a day like this, it was no different. Her daughter, Belle, peeked around the side of the house. I patted my hands off on my pants, picking my tool box up with me.

"Thank you again, Zander," she smiled. Not everyone was as nice as Mrs. Patterson. She sees people for "the value of who they are and not by the outer shell" and some other stuff I usually pretend not to know what she means.

Belle smiled. I glanced to her, smiling, as seeing she was caught, the girl disappeared behind the wall of the house.

"Just thought I'd come around and check up on it. I was sort of rushing to fix it yesterday. Shocking, isn't it?"

Mrs. Patterson rolled her eyes up at the joke. "You didn't have to. It's a free day after all, and the Peacekeepers don't exactly give two hoots if the citizens' electric boxes work. Just as long as they can get cable television, they're fine." She chuckled at her own joke, pulling her shawl closer around her.

"You'd think they'd just watch the garbage can." Mrs. Patterson's eyebrow scrunched up. "Garbage? Trashy television." Yeah, that was a horrible pun. She laughed any way.

Like any working person in District Five, I spend most days after school in the factories for a few hours before going home. I'd spend six and a half hours at school, three plus hours at the power plants, then home to my house of brothers. There have been times I was assigned to check a certain quadrant and their power boxes, and the homeowners wouldn't even let me near. I don't think of myself as a bad person, but mutations in this district are especially cringed at. Our latest Victor (who isn't exactly all there) is often murmured about amongst the citizens. He has a strange personality and a bit of a major shift in moods from time to time. I respect the guy though. He's a panda. How can you hate a panda?

I waved good bye to Mrs. Patterson and slid sleeve back to examine the time. The same moment, I walked right into Belle. She gasped in surprise, her hands raised to cover her mouth.

"Oh, Zan, didn't see you there…" she said awkwardly. I smiled warmly and a blush wormed its way into her features.

"Hey, Belle," I said. Her hands grasped each other before her. "What's up?"

The awkward sixteen year old brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, gnawing at her lip. "So, I was thinking, if you're not busy later, if we could hang out or something?" I tried to mellow down the smile working up on my face.

"Or something?" I asked curiously. Belle ran a hand through her hair.

"I know, you and your brothers and all, and your dad works so he may-"

"Paging Dr. Zanny!" a voice suddenly yelled. "Dr. Zanny!"

I chuckled shaking my head. Belle raised her head up and I watched her shrink back. "I should go. See you later?"

Her eyes shone over enthusiastically. "O-Okay." I smiled at her, strolling over to my dope ass friends who always seemed to know where I was at the current moment. I swear they have nothing better to do but come and check on their pal Zander.

Seth raised his eyebrows while Callum picked at something in his teeth. "You haven't dated her yet, right?" I shook my head and Callum grinned.

"So when she realizes your lack of commitment, can I date her?" I rolled my eyes.

"If she can see you through the mop on your head you call hair." We moved on, down the sidewalk of District Five. Life has been easier than in the past. The whole district got those shipments of food and other supplies with Prospero's winnings. People weren't as hungry.

Seth shook his head. "You don't piss directly in the toilet bowl either, bro. What makes you much better?" Callum shrugged.

"He at least has an excuse," I pointed out. "He can't see past the mop."

Seth snorted with laughter. "He can at least use it to clean it up. Remember that last party?"

At Callum's wide eyed expression and scowls of being the center of our teasing. "No, he doesn't. He never does."

I had worn my reaping clothes to the Patterson's. The suit was worn but still wearable, and most likely will be worn one day by Connor and Torin and possibly Alan. Yamal, not sure. We go through I don't know how many clothes with him. He tears holes like a porcupine. Eh, that's a bit too literal of a statement.

Suddenly, Seth swatted my arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, is that your brother?" My eyes widened as I followed his line of sight. My fists instantly tensed up and my arms shifted to a gorilla-like frame. My back arched now, I marched to the circling boys.

"Tell the little know-it-all to stop searching through my head!" a chubby kid barked. His burly fists clenched up and the leader of his gang sighed, as if this were boring him.

"Clay, take 'em down. And you other guys." The chubby one charged in on Connor, fists raised up. My next in age younger brother, Torin, stood back-to-back with Connor. Shoddy nearby bushed began growing, the brambles reaching towards them.

The leader of the cronies surrounding my younger brothers yawned. His eyes casted to me, and he instantly cursed beneath his breath. Without even warning the others, he and his two main sidekicks ran off into the reaping audience.

I grabbed the chubby one's collar, tugging him back. He instantly squeaked.

"You boys aren't getting tangled up, are you?" Connor face palmed as Torin's plants edged away.

"Nice pun," he mumbled. I grabbed another, thinner, yet uglier kid.

"I suggest you all be on your merry way and I won't beat the crap out of you." The chubby kid, as I dropped him, swung a fist at my midsection. It admittedly got me off-guard but this guy couldn't throw a punch.

Details with what happened are a little vague. But the chubby one ended up crying in Torin's bush and the others laid about in warzone fashion. Seth and Callum were practically hauling me back.

"Calm down, Dr. Zanny. Find your happy place. Find your happy place."

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

"Brandy Harris." I blinked, breaking from the slight snoozing trance I had fallen in. Whoa, what? Damn, okay, pretend you're that chick over there, you're suddenly twins….

A Peacekeeper snatched my arm, I guess acknowledging the name and able to spot me out. Note to self; never shape shift into a Head Peacekeeper ever again. I figured that at the time, but now I really regret it. It probably didn't help matters when they arrested me for 'unlawful display of mutation' and yada yada, I found a cup and started banging on the bars, shouting "I have a right for one phone call!" Thank Bubba David had been the one to get the news. If Mom had found out, I would have woken up very cold and confused. The Peacekeepers seem to have remembered me after that.

I scowled and trailed my feet some as he hauled me to the stage. "Brandy Harris, right here."

The bored looking escort noted with me a glazed gaze, and then asked for volunteers. I stood by; the only sound the snuffling of Aries Prospero's nose as he sniffed me.

He roared once, pouting. "Doesn't anyone comprehend the same love of apples I have?" Yeah, he's been figuring out how to talk normally as a panda. It comes out unclear, though, like he has a mouth full of peanut butter. I'm pretty sure that this may be the case.

"Onto the guys." The escort cleared his throat, staring down at his hand. I peeked over and examined the black words scribbled across his palm. "This was the same moment in which our own Victor, Aries Prospero, had his life changed, the first day of his journey in the-"

"Can I pick the name?" Panda Aries interrupted with. The escort scowled with annoyance, struggling to find his place. His big fluffy head, Aries' I mean, dove into the bowl. With all the weight put into a panda of his size, he knocked the orb over. It tumbled to the ground and a thousand little jagged shards shattered across the stage. I raised my arms up to protect all vital organs, since I sort of need them. Aries roared in pain.

"You stupid mutt," the escort hissed, the most action I've seen from him. That sounded awkward. "Why do I even bother with this job?"

"You get to fuck pretty young girls?" I asked. The man whirled around, unsteady green eyes set upon me. They were an irregular green, though, too bright and solid to be natural.

The way he didn't answer me, I knew it was true. Uneasily, he grabbed a slip of paper from the wreckage, clearing the glass from it.

"Torin De La Fuente," he announced slowly. Hey, I know that kid, he's in my classes. I copied off of him on a science test once. He controls plants so it could stand to follow.

Almost instantly though, a kid was plowing through from the seventeen year old section. "I volunteer!" As if they hadn't heard him, he repeats, "I volunteer as male tribute!"

Torin blinked at the boy and his face scrunched up in fear. His soft voice called out. The older boy ignored him.

The volunteer climbed to the stage, nudging glass and slips of paper aside with his foot. The escort allowed the slip in his hand to flutter away.

"And your name is?" The guy squared his shoulders off, head raised.

"Zander De La Fuente." Oooh, yeah, Torin's older brother. He comes from a family of all boys, so it's sort of hard to keep track. The last one of those Fuente kids killed their mom and twin brother in child birth. He isn't a demon child, at least, I hope not. Most of the district avoids that one.

The escort shrugged. "Here are you tributes." The Peacekeepers glanced about, gesturing for him to stop. The escort just trudged off the stage, phone in hand and yelling at the person on the other end. Damn, I'd hate to be his manager.

Since I need to show off my abilities anyway…

I shaped into what I could remember of the human Aries. The red hair and freckles, pale skin, wiry frame…

The panda ooo-ed along with the crowd. "You're human me!" the panda version barked gleefully. "Except for that scar I had on my face, looked like Luke Castellan."

"You didn't have a scar," I said. The panda chuckled in a panda-ish way.

"Yeah, I know, but that would have been cool, right?"

-0-

David gripped my arm tight as he entered the room. With some hesitance from both of us, we hugged each other. An uneasy breath shook from my older brother's chest. Whoa, was he crying?

"Kid, we're in a rough spot right now," he said. "Mom and Dad are completely nuts right now. Mom is already going off the deep end. I made sure she didn't purchase the black dress to bury you in."

"That's comforting," I muttered. Davey laughed, but it was a little too bleating, like a goat. Mom and Dad were nutty when they said their goodbyes. Not all put together. Dad would be staring off while Mom muttered reminders to herself. I sighed into his shoulder. Whoa, was I crying?

"You can do this, okay? You know Mom, she doubts everything." His amber eyes widened upon me. "You do to. But you're in the Games for a reason."

"Because I'm a mutant freak the Capitol likes to make a show of," I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

Davey poked my shoulder. "Exactly." That makes sense.

"I'll miss you, kid, for some reason," David said. "But you better be back for my birthday." He's not like me, a mutt, I mean. It would have been his last year of the reaping if he was. "Remember what I said. What you know is a lot more useful than what you don't."

I wiped a tear-no sweat, sweat that oozed from my eye ducts-from my face. "That made no sense, bro, but I'll hug you any way." We've always had your normal sibling-rivalry. I don't exactly have many friends either but David has always been one for me to turn to. He's my big brother.

I hugged the boy one last time as the Peacekeeper called for him to leave. My heart swelled and I dug my fists into my eyes. Admittedly, District Five was not my preferred point of origin. Oooh, electricity, you can figure out how to shock people! No, we're just a bunch of button pushers and lever pullers. Do I look like I'm from Three? Don't answer that. Our only Victor in the past fifteen years won by almost luck. The tranny from Thirteen would have won if…I honestly don't know. He just keeled over and died. Wipes out the little girl from Twelve, only to fall to his knees and…die.

I didn't expect anyone else to come in, but I was wrong. With some words of annoyance and arguing, Connor De La Fuente stumbled into the room with his brother Torin. He scowled at the younger boy, who gestured broadly at me.

"The evil one isn't with you guys, right?" Connor's scowl deepened. Torin waved his hand at me, still looking at his brother. They were having one of those silent arguments, it seems.

"Fine," the older one stated. They sat sown on either side of me on the couch and I awkwardly tugged my ear. "Coming was his idea. I still think it's stupid."

"Ditto," I agreed. Torin glared at us. I glared back. "I know you're here to pull one of those 'Oh please don't kill my brother! We can't live without him! Try not to kill him.'"

"No exactly," Torin said awkwardly.

Connor rolled his eyes. "Screw it, man, that's exactly why we're here." All five of the De La Fuentes had a mutation. Whereas Torin controlled plants, Connor could read minds. I brought forth some thoughts that made his scowl deepen upon me.

"Don't mention that around my brother," he said. I thought it again and I was sort of amazed by the amount of dirty looks I could get from the two. "That's a well advised tip. I'd take it seriously if I were you. He'll kick anyone's ass who messes with his brothers."

I blinked, taking this in. "And?"

Torin sighed. "Look, I think it'd be best if you guys became allies or something. He can adapt to anything, literally." I thought back to Zander's display, first growing gills, then to having gorilla feet, and suddenly changing to a full blown polar bear. This really caught Aries' attention.

"Change into a panda, now!" he commanded. My partner huffed in, absolutely wiped.

"Give me a sec. I'm sort of tired."

Aries glared. "Change. Now."

"You know, I couldn't understand that," I stated. "He's like a shape shifter? But adaptions or animal parts."

"Um," Torin mulled for a moment. "Yeah."

Finally, their time was up. Thank you. "Consider this, okay? It'll help you both." In a second thought, he added, "And I'll say, I'm sorry now for any antics he may pull. He's…Zander, for lack of better words." Yup, helps me think that through.

"Tell the evil one I say hi." Connor shook his head.

"Why did I not have to be a mind-reader to know you were going to say that?"

**Huh…not sure how this one went. Half-dead here, and wanted to get a chapter out.**


	7. District Six: Normal

**I finally found him! Ah, all is well. Sort of.**

_**Cameron Wynn, District 6**_

Tom looped his arm through Rowena's, looking onwards. My twelve year old sister giggled, failing in her attempt to keep a straight face. The two skipped together down the path. I squeezed Amy's hand, rolling my eyes.

"He's a five year old trapped in a fifteen year old's body," Amy laughed. John chewed on a hangnail, glancing to us.

"I think I'll go join them. Leave you two to your own devices," he winked. Instead of a preferred skip, he jogged up ahead. "Hey, guys, wait for me. No, I'm not skipping with you."

We both rolled our eyes. "Why are we friends with them?" Amy whispered.

"They're lovable people," I smiled. I draped my arm over her shoulders, her left arm crossing over her chest to keep a hold on my hand. She slipped her hand away and wrapped it behind me, gripping my side.

"What would you do if my name was called?" I asked suddenly. Amy's blue eyes widened. She knew about my mutation. There's a whole bunch of mysteries going on in the school of District Six (i.e. random surf worthy floods at school, pencils turning to dirt, the unnamable food at school turning to metal or ice, which honestly isn't much of a difference). Most of the antics were of my workings, Tom's planning, and John's covering. Okay, it's not much of a mystery. I get a little arrogant, I will admit, but everyone agrees it's still funny as hell.

"Well, I'd wait until you came home," she said simply. "Don't think like that Cam, it's a beautiful day. We'll worry about it _if_ the time comes. Right now, it's our time." She leaned in and kissed me softly once.

Groans and snorts of disgust cut us off. "Get a room!" Rowena and Tom yelled at the same moment. Amy giggled, grabbing my hand and running ahead.

"She so likes him," I commented. Amy shrugged, not exactly disagreeing. She's usually the first to scold me when I'm ragging on my sister.

The smaller Wynn, with her ginger hair, fair, sunburn-prone skin, and blue eyes, rested her head on Tom's shoulder. They were all the same features I had. Rowena squeezed Tom's arm and he scuffed up her hair, oblivious to the crush.

John rolled his eyes at Tom, who blinked blankly. "I'm going to meet up with the football fellas before the reaping. Calix is probably losing his mind over his little sister right now." Calix's sister, Callie, is the same age as Rowena, meaning it was her first Mutant Games reaping. I've tried to, I don't know, set them up on play dates or something. We stopped when Rowena complained Callie kept biting the heads off her old style Barbie dolls from a bajillion years ago. Callie's mutation is a little deep rooted.

Tom joined in with John and Row urgently tagged along. Totally likes the goofball. She smoothed her dress out and she self-consciously fiddled her hair into place.

A bunch of pink clad girls (apparently, pink is _so_ in, on accordance to the fashion magazine I found in Amy's room as she got dressed for the reaping. That and kissing on the first date makes the guy think he has rule over you) waved Amy over. Her eyes reluctantly drifted to me. She leaned into me, not planning on straying.

"You go, I'll be fine. Have fun." I watched the girl's blue dress flutter behind her. No, I wasn't looking down. Maybe.

"Wynn heads up!" My eyes swiveled about reflexively. A football shot towards me at a good seventy miles an hour. Blink and it would have buried itself into my chest, knocking me to my ass.

I cold feeling shot through my veins, as if my blood was twice as thin. The ball spiraling towards me suddenly burst apart midair in a wave of water. It splashed across me and I shivered with the cold.

John and several others from his numerous sports teams sprinted over. Rowena dragged behind some.

"That. Was. Awesome!" Tom shouted. I wiped the water off my face but my clothes were already soaked to my skin.

"So sorry, man!" Calix gasped. Guy has super strength, never piss him off. Sheepishly, he added, "Got a little carried away."

I waved it off. "No prob." Other kids anxiously stepped away from us.

"Another set of freaks." I wanted to feel some discontent at such statements but found I couldn't. There were some scary people out there, scary mutts. The scary factor wasn't just the ability itself but deeper within. Some of our kind weren't exactly…sane.

I shook the thought off. Our kind. It sounded as if I were already separating everything.

My hair stuck to my forehead and John and Tom tugged me off as the escort began calling for order. "You're wet," Tom commented. I'll ignore any perverted context the sly grin following the statement carried.

I stood stiffly, searching the crowd. Amy stared off at the stage, rather bored looking. Her friend Stacy tapped her shoulder and pointed my way. Amy's face lit up and she mouthed the word _Hi _to me.

_You okay? _I asked. She nodded. Amy had no worries. She was completely normal.

Tom leaned in, following my line of sight. He took in a breath, prepared to start.

"Don't you dare sing the Stacy song," I hissed.

"Which one?" he asked. The mischievous grin made me shake my head. We quieted for a moment as a Peacekeeper glared our way. I spoke lower now.

"Either." Although, he does get points for his own "My Name Is Stacy" song that he made up himself. Sorry, I am not going to tell you the words. Trust me, I'm looking out for.

The escort with his two too-large-to-be-not-surgically-done arms grinned grandly. The thickness of his finger couldn't quite pluck the delicate individual slip. It took some grabbing and more grabbing until he finally got a hold of one. All of us couldn't help but giggle at his squeaky voice.

"Lauryn Rivera." There was the usual disgruntled murmur as everyone tried to find the girl. I didn't recognize the name so she definitely wasn't my age.

The girl, her brown hair braided down to mid-back, was standing in place, stunned, and need to be hauled up by a Peacekeeper. As his hand wrapped around her wrist, she absolutely flipped. And this was a thirteen year old girl, two sections and a gender crowd away.

"I'm not a mutt!" she shouted. The man tugged her arm rather hard but she kicked him in the knee. His weight buckled and he toppled to the dirt ground. I felt a twinge of sympathy in me at the girl. She had a lot of fight in her, for someone so young.

It took several Peacekeepers to gather the young girl up in their arms to haul her onto the stage. "Let go of me you," wow, my mom would not like me using that kind of language, "I'm not a freaking mutt! I'm normal! Normal!"

Her bum skidded along the stage. Our mirror obsessed escort smirked crookedly at her but the dark expression she casted knocked that expression off real fast. The white clad men stood at the exits of the stage to ensure she wouldn't make a run for it."

I breathed out slowly as the escort grabbed for the boy's name. It only took him one try this time. It's not you man, there's probably a thousand slips-

"Cameron Wynn."

I stared blankly up, comprehending the words. Cameron Wynn. I'm Cameron Wynn. That kid has my name.

John nudged me in the back. I looked back and found the tough yet likable guy macho off. Tears shone in his eyes. Tom's usually smiling face appeared bleak; his mouth curved forty-five degrees in the wrong direction.

The effort of moving one foot in front of the other made me dizzy. A lot of kids gave me pitied looks. Others breathed with sighs of relief.

-0-

Mom stroked my cheek one last time. "You can do this, honey. We love you, and will still love you, no matter what you do." Dad's fists were clenched tight and the pat on the shoulder he gave me was rather hard. Rowena's arms slipped from around my neck. I waved one last time to my sister, most possibly the last time in my life.

Immediately following them was Amy. I stood as she stepped in and she rushed into my widespread arms. I had struggled to keep all my emotion in up to that point and I started nearly sobbing, digging my face into her golden brown hair.

"I'm going to die, A. I'm going to die." The girl shook her head. I could feel her tears soaking my shoulder.

"No, you won't. You can win this, Cam."

"Twenty five people are dying. How am I any different?"

"Because," Amy choked out, "you're brave and charming and smart and people will like you. You can't die." I stood there stroking her hair, trying to calm myself with her touch.

"That's what I love about you, Cam. Win. For me. Come home."

I nodded. "I will."

_**Lauryn Rivera, District 6**_

I gripped Chell's hand. "What are the odds of you being reaped?" I whispered. Our awfully narcissistic escort struggled to draw a slip. The girl shook her head.

"It could happen. To anybody." I squeezed her hand. He finally managed to grip one individual slip.

"Watch, it's not going to be you." Laurel grabbed Chell's other hand while Addie hugged our friend from behind. Addie's head rested on the slope of Chell's hunched back, her blondish strands flying freely about.

Chell Reggie and Kaitlyn Rivera. Just not those names. Any name but Chell's name or Kaitlyn's. No one I loved. No one I knew. Some soul who was due to drop dead the next day any way.

The dumbass onstage took so painstakingly long to read it. He squinted down at it, taking a moment for the dopey Capitol gears to clear it into words. Chell squeezed her eyes shut and everyone hunched in around her. I held my taller head up, trying to find Kaitlyn in the twelve year old section.

"Lauryn Rivera." My stomach dropped to the deepest pit of my body. What? How could that be?

"I'm not mutated," I said aloud in a normal tone. All of my friends jerked back in shock, too stunned to react. "I'm not a mutt."

People were looking around for this Lauryn Rivera. She wasn't me. This Lauryn Rivera was a mutant. Certainly not me.

I stared straight ahead, unable to move. "C'mon, girly," a Peacekeeper grunted. He grabbed my wrist roughly and jerked it hard enough to nearly rip it from its socket.

"I'm not a mutt!" I shouted at him. He fell as my foot drove into his knee. A half a dozen Peacekeepers promptly grabbed my limbs and carried me like a log.

"Let me go," I shouted, with maybe some other words thrown in. "I'm not a freaking mutt. I'm normal. Normal!"

They tossed me onto the stage and I grunted as my butt skidded along. This was a mistake, a huge mistake. They must have mixed my DNA up with some other thirteen year old girl. This couldn't be possible. I didn't accidentally make stuff float around like Chell or turn invisible like my younger sister. To think my biggest worries was her and

The escort pulled the boy's name from the bowl. It was a mistake. I was normal.

"Cameron Wynn." The boy remained within the crowd for a few moments before finally stumbling forward from the fifteen year old section, absolutely stunned. He bit down his gaping jaw, a determined look in his eyes. He was of stocky build and slightly over six foot.

He nodded to me, a friendly glint in his eyes. He was just like the kid from last year. But he died.

"Now to display the abilities," the escort said with a wave of his arm, a little too close to the camera.

Cameron gestured for me to step to the machine. It was fricken' huge, probably to ensure bigger tributes like those from Career districts or one of those giants from Eleven space. I swallowed hard looking at it, but felt a rush of thought. It'll prove I'm normal.

I hurriedly stepped into it. Suddenly…

…nothing happened.

Laser beams didn't shoot from my eyes and the Cameron kid didn't start doing the Macarena, no matter how hard I thought for him to. I sighed.

"You're a strong little mutant, aren't you?" the woman reading the data spewing from the side of the machine said. I shook my head in bewilderment.

"What can I do?" I asked. She simply laughed.

"Whatever you're doing now. It's in your head, right?"

I stomped my foot. "I'm not doing anything." Cameron strode over to the machine, tilting his head.

"You're mad, aren't you?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'm not exactly excited here, dude." He rested his hand on the side of the machine to lean on it.

"Yeah, neither am I." Suddenly, the shell of metal began to crumple. I looked up and found specks of dirt to dot my forehead. I blinked at each trickle until the whole thing caved in atop of me. It was a mere mound at my feet by the end.

I couldn't help but giggle at the scientist lady's gaped mouth. We were instantly taken ahold of and guided to the back.

"What can you do?" he asked softly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I swear." He nodded and allowed himself to be shoved through the Justice Building doors.

I walked into the compact little room for goodbyes. To say goodbye to my family before I go off to the Mutant Games, even though I'm not a mutant.

A minute, two minutes, three minutes passed. I crossed my legs, trying to become comfortable. This obviously would never happen.

Mom and Dad walked very slowly into the room, as if normal motion would make the time go faster. Kaitlyn shoved past them. Her body plowed into me with a hug and tears ran down her face.

"I never thought it would be your name," she sniffled. Mom and Dad gradually sat down beside me, just as stunned as me. Could you blame them? I probably wasn't crying yet because I was so shocked.

Kaitlyn wiped at her eyes. "Good luck, sis." We were practically best friends. Mom calls us twins with different birthdays. My sister is only an inch shorter than me and a few features were altered on her face. But otherwise, there was no denying her.

"You have to try," Dad said softly. "Everyone will be bigger and uglier than you."

I laughed meekly at this. "Don't forget scarier, experienced, smarter-"

Mom smacked my shoulder. "Don't think like that. You're the most stubborn little girl I know. And hell, if you're set on living, you'll do it."

Kaitlyn snuggled her head up, brown eyes set upon me. "Promise you'll at least try. You'll run and skip and sing 'til you can't. Got it?"

Today had started out so normal. I woke up, got dressed in my reaping outfit. I had the prettiest dress from last year but Kaitlyn had stared at the fabric with such big eyes I had relinquished it to her. We argued over hot water use, which I again relinquished to her. Breakfast (I won this round) and then our walk to the reaping. My sister was quiet the entire time and we walked along hand-in-hand for a while. She was scared. I was scared for her.

The Peacekeeper walked back in, announcing time was up. "Got it."

**Cameron can turn solid objects into dirt, water, metal, etc. Lauryn, well, that's for me to know, and you to find out (evil grin).**

**And my friend just went through a hard breakup (I honestly don't see it as that big because she dated the guy for a week). I started quoting from the song "Move Along." It seems as if most of my conversations with her end up with me cracking up at my innuendos. **


	8. District Seven: Don't Rush Me

**Finally getting to work on this chapter. School is freaking murder. But god, three day weekend (smiles at thought). Sorry about the week delay. You should hear some of the crazy ass crap that's happened to me in the past week. Sort of funny, actually. Let's just say cardio, boys and girls.**

_**Silvia Arbres, District 7**_

A small blue jay flitted to a nearby branch above my head. The dense surrounding of redwood trees blocked out the sky. It wasn't much of a sight today, though, matching the grim mood of the district. Raindrops slicked the sides of the bark and I traced the grooves and ruts of the redwood with my fingertips. The bark darkened as it absorbed the water. I smiled. It's been a while since they got a good drink.

The blue jay hopped closer to me. Its feathered chest swelled and a clear chirp vibrated out. I swung my legs on the branch to reposition myself. The tree's arms created a perfect fork where I could lean into it comfortably.

"Hey, Altaira," I greeted. The bird's body began to grow. Feathers melded into the skin and it ballooned up to at first crude workings of a two legged being. Light little legs became feet and the notable crown of feathers sticking up from the top of her head fell down in a spunky cut brown hairstyle. She loved red robins and blue jays the best, their prominent speck of color contrasting to the earthy tones around them.

My friend grinned as she took her human form. "Surprised to see you."

She knows I often wander the woods when I need to think or to relax after a long day or to have a place to myself. Although, I usually just root myself to a spot. Different tree depending on the day. I myself essentially being the tree.

Altaira adjusted herself on the branch. "How can you sit so long like this?" she asked.

"You've found it quite comfortable in trees."

"I also gather up some leaves and moss to sleep on." Alt's legs swung playfully like a child and she hummed softly under her breath. We sat there in silence, although, it wasn't as silent as you think. The raindrops padded against leaves, dripping down to the ground below. Mosquitos lazily coasted by, the few ones that dared to venture in this weather. It was the rhythm of forest.

Altaira cleared her throat. She was always the first to get to the point. "We need to go." Her eyes, still blue from her blue jay transformation, looked down to the ground, a good thirty feet below.

I nodded. "Let's stop by my house to change." Alt's face curled up in a grin.

"Race you there!" She leapt down, freefalling for a moment. Her arms spread out and with only eight feet left, she shifted completely into an eagle. I've seen her do it so many times but it still managed to take my breath away. There's so much detail put into every aspect of life, of nature. The feathers of birds, hues of yellow in dandelion, how trees start from such a tiny seed to the vast object I sit atop of now.

The eagle straightened out and swooped up into the air. I sighed. Carefully, I began making my way down. Time to get going home.

Aging leaves cracked beneath me. The eagle suddenly burst from the foliage and flew by magnificently. Alt had obviously been joking with her racing statement. I'm undoubtedly slow, as she has said. I think of it more as attentive to all that is around me. I like to consider things, think it completely through.

I meandered on. The shortest route, although being the shortest, used twenty minutes of my time. I don't mind. Rush through stuff, you'll miss a lot.

Altaire regained her human shape and walked alongside me. "Do you want to hang out later?" she asked. We came up to my house and I stopped, stalling for the moment. Alt's eyebrows rose up.

We stood there at the edges of the property. Finally, my feet shuddered and I found each one taking a step forward. They had to stop being rooted at some point. Alt ran ahead and ducked her head inside. She instantly flinched back, looking to me.

"You know, the outfit you're wearing is lovely enough." Her hand snatched my wrist and she began running down the dirt path of Seven. The pace didn't exactly sit well with me but Alt was merely looking out for me.

My mother and I…don't have the best relationship. A stormy one, for it to be best explained. Her temper is quite fiery to say the least. And it'd take the biggest of storms to extinguish this flame.

At a safe enough distance, Alt found cover from a suddenly heavy torrent of rain beneath a dark bushel of leaves. I stared at my dirtied sundress and torn jeans. This outfit wasn't exactly lovely. Not in this state.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked as I smoothed the dress. Alt rolled her eyes in a fun-loving gesture that made me grin myself.

"Absolutely." After signing in, Altaire and I step into the seventeen year old section. Alt began chatting with other girls and I listened silently beside her.

The Mutant Games. Since I'm seventeen now, my name would only be in the bowl twice. But twice was dangerous enough. There's a one in twenty-six chance of someone living in the Games. They still manage to beat those odds. It could happen to possibly any one.

The mayor started and finished the speech. A hush instantly followed. My eyes followed the movements of Peacekeepers as they strode by.

Finally the escort stepped up to the bowls. A tight grin pulled tight across her face and cleared her throat.

"Now for the brave young lady who will be given the chance of bringing glory to District Seven," the escort said. Her eyes closed in a way as if she enjoyed the mere sound of her voice. She was at least more understandable than last years.

Her hand dove into the bowl and she grabbed a handful of names from the bowl. She flicked through them. Is that allowed? I wouldn't think as much.

She considered one name, and then raised the microphone up to speak into it. "Silvia Arbres."

Alt gasped, hand covering her mouth. It took several blinks before I took my first step towards the stage.

The escort wasn't going to wait for me. "Congratulations. Volunteers?" She paused in the amount of space between my heart beats. "Very good. Now to our worthy young man." Her hand went to the boys' bowl. She picked a name that she most likely thought sounded nice. Or maybe worst. She could most possibly know what she is doing and sending those she want to death. Like myself.

Myself. Being sent to the Mutant Games….

I sucked in a breath. This is it. I may never come back.

"Cede Demeter." The Peacekeepers ushered around me as I made my easy stroll to the stage. Cede…he's in the same year as me. We did a school project together once. Every idea I thought up, he had shot down. Eventually, I just let him do what he wanted. A strong personality, that's for sure. Rather bossy.

The stocky boy strode confidently up to the stage. I'd say it was a sort of swagger. I continued at my even pace. Just rush up to my future? I'm fine like this.

The escort waved for me to continue up. I was doing so and I examined cameramen yawning behind their cameras. People whispered amongst themselves to feed their attention.

"Screw it," Cede muttered. Peacekeepers grabbed for him as he jumped off the stage. They had dozed some in the moment and their reflexes dulled. Cede marched all the way up to me and grabbed my sides. I frowned at his touch and even more as he tossed me over his shoulder.

"Our tributes," the escort grinned uncertainly. Cede stomped back up the steps and slammed me none-too-gently down. I could already see our escort's eyes lighting up on Cede. Our two previous Victors shook their heads. My eyes narrowed some.

The two of us were not alike, but I know this. We were set upon living.

_**Cede Demeter, District 7**_

"'C'mon, Pers, just one more try? Maybe then you'll get a girl!'" Mom muttered. Bleu poked Chip, who kept shouting "Quit it!" Oak stared moodily at his bowl of fruit, which wasn't exactly too fresh. He's trying to pull of the whole punk/Goth look. He's not tricking any one.

Dad smiled at his wife. "Well, if we try again-"

Mom shook her head. "No. Four boys are enough." She sighed, commanding her sons to shut up and eat. Ah, that phrase never gets old. "We wouldn't be able to afford another one either way."

"Aren't we enough?" Chip piped up with. He pinned Bleu's poking finger to the table, glaring the dirtiest of looks to the fourteen year old. He may have been younger, but he was definitely stronger. "Will you just quit it?"

"Of course," Dad said. "I mean, you are enough." He took Mom's hand in his and her expression softened some. Bleu wriggled from Chip's grip. Mom's back became rigid again and eyes swept about to all of us.

"Wash up and get dressed boys," she commanded. My brother's remained planted in their seats. "Now." That's a tone you don't argue with.

I rose from my seat, spreading an arm wide. "Well, fellas? You heard the woman. Get washing." I grabbed Chip's and Bleu's collars and jerked them to their feet. Dad frowned but didn't pursue the matter as the thirteen and fourteen year old got moving. Oak looked up at me as I stared down over him.

"What's the point? We're all lambs to the slaughter. Does it make any difference that we're dressed nicely or not? The Capitol still sees us as poor, dirty, pa-"

"Stop being a whiny little emo and get your ass up." Bleu chuckled under his breath. I ushered them to the one bathroom we're they all crowded around the sink with moist washcloths. I oversaw from behind, arms crossed over my chest. There was barely any room to take in a full breath, the walls' pale blue paint chipping.

"Remember to get behind your ears, boys," I said. Chip glared over to me.

"What are you, our mother?" I rolled my eyes, tousling his hair.

"Just in charge."

Bleu spat into the sink, and by Oak's scowl, it landed on the sixteen year old's hand. "By force, Mr. Dictator." Oak slipped out the door. Before I could even ask if he had actually brushed his teeth, I heard the front door slam shut. Oh well.

"What's up his butt?" Bleu murmured. Chip and I both rolled our eyes. He was most like me, I'd say. Oak tended to act like a PMS-ing little girl and Bleu…was Bleu.

I shoved them out and bent over the sink to brush my own teeth. The water pressure was getting low. I stared at the mirror, which was slightly cracked at the edges. With calloused hands, I ran my thumb over the gapping between each piece of mirror.

The piece started expanding. I flinched back when I noticed and the enlarged piece had broken out of the rim of the mirror. It clattered about to the sink, and I watched it slowly sink back to its original size.

I tried to keep from punching something. All the stress was slowly building up in me. Another reaping. Another fucking reaping. I never asked to be a freak. It just happened. The other three were normal. What about me?

My hands gripped the sides of the sink tight. My body lowered as it the sink itself shrunk down. Calm down, I chided myself. I usually have better control over the whole shrinking and growing thing. But when the stress is so overwhelming, it goes just a bit haywire.

Unsure exactly if it even worked, I let go and backed away. "Just get to the reaping."

I had already gotten dressed and rolled the sleeves of my shirt up to my elbows. Chip's tie hung around his neck in a knot and Bleu managed to nearly strangle himself. I quickly freed this brother from the hold and fixed the ties to a proper tie looking shape.

"See, being bossy isn't all that bad," I chuckled. Bleu's face lost the blue (no pun intended) tone it gained. Chip tugged at his collar to loosen its tight hold.

"Oak may say differently." Chip's eyes watched me wearily. I could practically feel it darkening. "But whatever. Come on, we're going to be late."

The walk to the reaping remained quiet. Bleu eventually branched off to a group of friends. Chip stepped closer beside me, head bowed.

"Dude, something's going on with me." The tone caught me off guard. I leaned down to listen to him.

"What do you mean?" Chip's eyes swiveled to guarantee no one was in earshot of his words. He cleared his throat.

"Last night, something weird happened."

My eyebrows knit together. "Weird how?" His eyes shifted uncomfortably back and forth. Thirteen year old boy living in modern day Panem. What could he be possibly talking about? "With the drift you're giving off, its normal man."

Chip's eyebrows furrowed out. "How is it in any way normal?"

I sighed. We were coming upon the reaping now. "Well, it happened to me, happened to the other guys. It's part of growing up, puberty, all that crap…"

Chip jolted back. "I'm not talking about that, Cede!" He shook his head. "I'm talking about this!"

He stuck his palm up and I almost didn't believe what I saw. I didn't know what I saw. But slowly, the small item in my brother's hand stopped shaking. I stared and saw it to be bug.

"You're worrying about that?" Chip shook his head and stared intently at the bug. It was a ladybug. Those suckers really love eating some of the worst pests in the district.

It zipped from his palm, but following this one came another. And then another. And another, from nowhere. It took me a moment to realize each one was crawling directly out of his skin.

"What the hell?"

Chip shook his head, dropping his hand down. "I have no idea. But I'm a freak, Cede. A mutant freak. I have no clue where this could lead."

Peacekeepers stalked by with eyes narrowing. One broke from formation and definitely was on the prowl. I gripped my brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry. We'll talk about this later." I managed to point Chip off into his section by the time the Peacekeeper walked up to me.

"Any reason why you're not in positions?"

I glanced to Chip as he slipped away. When his body disappeared into the crowd, I looked back to the man before me. "Sorry, sir. I was just reminding my dear brother the importance of the Mutant Games and to respect the Peacekeepers. I know it's sudden but I saw some of those kids giving you problems and didn't want any more difficulties." Yeah, I was milking it, but I had too much on my mind to worry about being witty.

The man smiled proudly. "Well, that's a responsible citizen of you. And if anyone asks, I just let you off with a warning." He stepped back and I nodded in thanks.

"Thank you, sir." I managed to get into the boy's section as the escort went on about the "brave young man" and being condemned, so on so forth.

I breathed in slowly. What girl was called anyway? She wasn't on stage.

"Cede Demeter." Really? I mean…fuck, really?

"Why, aren't I popular today?" I muttered. Fuck. I cleared my face of any signs of worry and strode to the stage with as much confidence as I could.

The escort nodded with a grin on her face. I followed her gaze to the girl still walking up. I frowned as I placed her. Silver? No, Silvia. The hippy girl.

I saw this was going to take a while. Screw that.

With some alarm from the surrounding Peacekeepers standing guard, I impulsively hopped down. Her mahogany, more District Eleven, colored skin contrasted against the mix of yellows, oranges, reds, browns and maybe just a bit green tinged hues of her hair.

Deep green eyes blinked curiously at me before I tossed her up over my shoulder. Someone has to get things in motion. People backed away uneasily. Last year's male tribute nearly killed everyone after his mutation was revealed. I simply thought the girl tribute was a bit of a bitch. Made this alliance to only let her stubborn nature get in the way.

Silvia glared moodily at me as I slammed her down on the stage. "Was moving along that hard?"

She shook her head at me, staring out across the audience. This will definitely be an interesting next couple of weeks.

**Gah, I'm so mad at myself for having to get this out so late. I feel like I screwed up Cede and the chapter is…eh, overall. My chapter for Tears of Blood is ridiculously late and the "assistant" as I think of her will definitely not be happy. (If you are not aware, Tears of Blood is a Hunger Games fanfiction composed by 24 separate authors, link is on my profile.)**

**Also, check out my mon ami's (as I call her) fanfic, please! She's new to the writing so go easy on her. ****myviolaismylife27**** had been the creator of Tanya and Jaz, of those who know who I'm talking about. **


	9. District Eight: In My Shoes

**For those who follow 24tributes24authors, I suggest going to my profile.**

_**Heather Aurum, District Eight**_

Barry's yellow eyes blinked down at me, mewing quietly. He licked at my face and the smooth, warm padding of his paws swatted my forehead. I turned over, pulling my blanket over my head.

"Five more minutes, Barry," I groaned. Usually, I'm eager to get up and start the day. But it's reaping day. And after pacing late into the evening with worry, I was tired.

Little claws scratched at my coverage, meowing again. Suddenly, he hissed and I heard his little feet plod away. A restraint came to my blanket and the person gripping it tugged hard. I flipped off with the fabric tangled up in my limbs. Giving in, I sat up, glaring at the girl standing over me.

"Good morning, sunshine," Leera said. We've butt heads on more than one occasion. I'm nice to her for our friends' sake. They like her for some reason.

I scowled at her, sitting up. Barry climbed into my lap, relaxing there. His nose nudged at the inside of my thigh. I stroked the tuft of hair behind his neck.

"Good morning, Leera," I said with as much of the animosity I could drain from it as possible. It still came out sounding rude. I promised never to sink to her level but that smug grin drove me nuts.

Alene peeked in, cringing uneasily. "Oh, sorry, H, I thought you were up already." Her eyes darted to Leera and scowled for a moment. The girl shrugged, marching out the door.

"Happy Reaping Day," Alene said in a low tone, that wasn't at all happy. I swallowed hard. Climbing to my feet, I lifted Barry up and snuggled him in my grip. Reaping Day. I wish I were like Barry and didn't have any worries. Just sleep out in the sun while people rubbed my belly.

I shook my head. Don't be so negative. I smiled at Alene, pressing my side to hers with the cat bundled up in my arms. My cousin smiled back at me calmly.

"Sorry for the wakeup call, really," she said, eyes crinkling apologetically. I laughed softly, hiking Barry up higher so he didn't slip from my grip.

"It's alright. I was up late so I guess I was late to rise." The cat's ginger strands were soft and cuddly. Barry's head lolled off, awfully comfortable. Alene scratched his head before picking up the sheets from the floor and tossing them onto my bed.

"Clean up and get ready. Your mom is making breakfast. And you promised you'd be the one to clean out Barry's litter box." I wrinkled my nose at those words.

"But remember last time? I sent kitty litter everywhere…." I groaned.

Alene rolled her eyes, a loving little smile on her face. "That's what you said last time. And you always manage to mess up doing your chores." I shrugged a tiny smile on my face. Maybe I do, maybe I don't.

"Make Leera do it," I said. Alene chuckled, stepping towards the door.

"I would, but I fear for Barry's sake." As if he understood, Barry meowed in consent. We both laughed now at this and I put the cat down. The ID tags of his collar clinked as he plodded across the wooden floor and his fluffy tale disappeared behind the doorframe.

"Just get to it. I think your other friends are here anyway." Alene closed the door as she left the room. I sighed, getting to the duty of making the bed. I wish Barry hadn't left; he would have made good company.

I ran a brush through the tangles of my hair until they finally represented actual curls. I pulled out my favorite old dress and slipped it on. It was a few years old, one of Alene's old ones passed onto me, and it came a little bit too high up over my knee. I definitely wasn't going for sex appeal. But it was still pretty comfy and didn't ride up much and it gave me some comfort. Although, those few inches were definitely bothering me.

My parents weren't poor. Just not very wealthy. I remember two years ago, for my birthday, Mom had asked what I wanted for my birthday.

"I was thinking about getting you a new formal dress," she suggested. I smiled eagerly but Dad peered curiously over his coffee mug.

"Why not a cat?" he said. We both looked at his oddly but he seemed serious.

Guess which one I got? If you guessed Barry, well, I love him more than any dumb old dress, no matter what my friends may say about him.

I frowned at my uneven nails but shrugged it off. Why does having cruddy fingernails today vary from any other day?

My shoes clicked against the flooring as I finally left my bedroom. I try to avoid heels. Not after that one experience with Barry. I puffed out a breath of hair, trying to relax. Today could go horrid. For any one. I could be reaped. I never, _ever_ use my powers. I can control it pretty easily, but it doesn't better me in the long run in any way.

Barry brushed up against my leg, his tail wrapping around my leg. I stroked his neck again before walking into the kitchen. I was struck my Dad's scowl towards me and then Leera's loud burp of "X…Y…Z." Alene washed dishes while Mom massaged her temples. The only time she ever cooks is reaping day. Breakfast is never necessarily…good on this day.

I shrugged, smiling apologetically, but something else had already caught my attention.

"Who fed Barry?" I asked. Mom's eyes widened.

"Well I did," she said. Ebony and Tetra looked up with the same curious look (being twins and all) and Alaina tilted her head. Leera leaned in, amused.

I looked over at his bowl and noted the particles of food that weren't quite licked clean. "What mix did you use? Wet or dry?" I gnawed on my lip, anxiously watching my mother. The other girls at the table grabbed a piece of extra crispy toast, biting sparingly on it.

"Just the wet." I was already shaking my head.

"You need to give him a little wet and a little dry," I explained.

Alene dried her hands off in a hand towel, eye going from me to Mom. "Well, Aunt V didn't know any better, H…"

I shook my head. "We've had him for two years. Mom, you know, he needs the wet and dry."

Mom shrugged. "Sorry, honey, I didn't." Dad shook his head, sipping his coffee.

I was ready to continue when Alaina jumped to her feet. "I think it's time for us to go." Ebony and Tetra both agreed, but Leera tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed.

"No, we have plenty of time," she said. Alaina shot Leera a look and my cousin stepped in.

"No, A's right; you may be late. We were just about to leave now too, right?" Mom and Dad jumped at the chance, nodding in agreement.

Leera rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

I brushed aside Leera's lackluster attitude, the presence of actual friends bringing a smile to my face. I looped my arm through Alaina's, and the twins went on either end of us. Tetra (or was it Ebony?) smiled at me, then to Leera who popped up beside her.

There was a giggly struggle as we exited the house and we ran ahead of my parents and cousin. Alene's parents, in late years, were having trouble financially. The girl moved in with us, having on me and eventually Barry to support, and agreed to help with the money.

I skipped ahead with Alaina, clucking over my shoulder, "Keep up, slow pokes!" Leera kept up at a sluggish pace and we often had to stop and wait as everyone caught up.

All too soon, the outskirts of the town square came up. I jolted to a stop and felt all trace of happiness clear from my face. I stared wide eyed, Alaina gripping my upper bicep area.

I relaxed, taking her hand. "Come on." We walked to the fifteen year old section. Normalcy was all too comforting about now. A normal day, just a normal day. The opening speech started and I tried to retain my usual peppy self.

"To start, let's go to the young ladies," the escort said as if suggesting. I breathed slowly. There were plenty of other girls. It can't be you.

She took painstakingly slow to draw a name and unfurl the paper. "Heather Aurum."

For a moment, I can't draw in breath. I'm too shocked. My fingers shake slightly and Alaina's fingernails drive into my palm. I begin walking forward.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

_**Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District 8**_

The individuals around the table scowled as I played my hand. "I believe I win this round." The groans of the hefty guys and click of their coins brought a reflexive smug grin to my face. Good, they didn't see the switch. Carlos smoothed his dwindling stack of bills out, not at all showing any nerves. We'd divvy up later. Alondra wasn't as trusting. His eyes set themselves upon me tentatively. The downwards curve of his lips mashed together made me question my planning. They were good poker buddies, to have on my side and play against.

I readjusted my arms on the table. The overcoat hid more than my bony structure and it was a risk leaving it on when the men requested for me to take it off. This was a stupid plan, on reaping day especially. Long sleeves would have worked too! I've done this before, not with such experienced and cut-throat players.

The pounding of the door brought our eyes flickering up and then to the most accessible clock. Shit, the reaping. It was late; I knew it was going to go late. Starting off with big wins just makes the other guys suspicious and

I collected the money on the table, Carlos and Alondra joining in. The coins fumbled through the gaps of my fingers and rolled about the creaky floor. The men were clearing away their beer cans and the green fabric of the poker table. I reached down stolidly for the few escaping bills and felt the smooth surface of cards slip from my sleeves. I acted nonchalantly to this, as if it were nothing. But, inside, my mind whirred with panic.

One of the men's voices, from the cacophony about, spoke in my ear, his breath warm and overbearing. "Now what may this be?"

Burly fingers dug into my skin, finger nails dragging along, until he had a firm grip on my collar. The other hand reached for the cards strewn across the floor.

"Someone doesn't like playing fair," he growled aggressively. The knocking off the door became heavier. Voices from the other side mingled in with the disorder within our space.

The man, Barney, I think they called him, yanked me to full height. Carlos's shoulders shrunk in as another man grabbed his collar. His confident grin shrank with his body.

"Well, hey, fellas…" he laughed. Alondra stood stiff between us. He glanced to his brother, who nodded perceptively.

Johnny Boy, a kind of guy you don't want to meet on a dark alley way in the midst of the night, latched scarred hands onto Alondra's shoulders. As his grip tightened, he suddenly was lifted off his feet and propelled forward over the boy (note: he does not withhold the ability of super strength). I drove my elbow into Barney's ribs and made for the open window. A drop hit the pit of my stomach as one of the men, Harlan, revealed a sharp, silver object from his jacket.

"Just give us our money back, kid, and we won't kill you."

"It's my money, asshats. I didn't cheat!" Carlos leapt out the window, using leverage off his twin. Why'd I let them go first? Note; steak out better next time before coming.

I crossed my hands across my chest. The men frowned at the gesture and Harlan advanced forward with his knife.

_Ping!_

Harlan didn't pick up the sound. My clothes were tougher to move but tougher to break through. I crouched to ease the impact. The larger man swung down the knife and it was like taking a full thrust punch. I laughed up at him and his confused expression.

I scrabbled through the open window and took off. Coins, a few money bills, and stray cards scattered in my path. Damn, that was my favorite deck. I heard the door finally give way and the Peacekeepers pounding on it swarmed in. I paused, fighting in for breath. Too close for comfort, that one. And to egg the man on? Some of the things that come out…

I glanced back over my shoulder. A man stood on the porch of the home and my heart picked up as I realized he was watching me, trying to make something of where I just came from. I tapped my shoulder, focusing. Making things hard was the easy part. Making them soft…

_Pong!_

I blew air from my lungs. The fabric allowed for better movement and I began sprinting in the direction of the center of town. I shoved through the crowd of people at the square's limits and watched large screens set up. The girl had already been reaped and she stood on the stage, limbs fidgeting. Silence passed over, no volunteers stepping forth. Not a surprise. The boy tribute from last year, I think his name was Nugget. Everyone loved him. Me, uh, I barely knew the kid. But everyone else loved him. Yet, no volunteers.

"Now for the boys!" The people of the mass allowed minimal space for me to pass through. Carlos and Alondra must have been anxious to get to the reaping on time. They usually always hang around for their cut of the winnings. Sometimes, they become rushed and doubting of me and demand their earnings in the most obvious and boastful spots. Have my workings put out there for everyone's business. That's murder!

I stumbled out finally. Peacekeepers watched me wearily and I skirted by them to the pen. It was in the eighteen year olds section and I managed to blend in. I'm above average height, so I was as tall as the shorter end guys. My sudden appearance earned questioning looks.

"Brodic Loveless? Do we have a Brodic Loveless?" Brodic…Loveless…that's my name.

My limbs tensed up. No, no, I couldn't have been reaped. But that was my freaking name.

Breathing out slowly, I stepped out boastfully. An arrogant, confident grin stretched across my face and I strode to the stage with an easy gate.

"Hello, ladies," I said. The escort grinned closemouthed towards me. "Happy Mutant Games."

The girl blinked at me, and I finally recognized her. Heather Arum or Aurum, something like that. Thick, curly brown hair as girly as her outwards disposition fell a few inches below her shoulders. Her rosy cheeks puffed out and thin pink lips pressed together in thought. Finally, she smiled at me. I didn't know what to make of it.

"Now to display the abilities," the escort announced. Without the need of a machine, I _ping_ed my overcoat again. I slipped it off, holding it up for the crowd to see.

"Hey, Peacekeeper," I called. One of the men, quite uneasy, stepped forward. It seemed more like he was shoved and he covered it well. I draped the coat over the main machine.

"You got a gun?" he frowned, shaking his head. I won't even comment on that. A comrade tapped his arm with a firearm and he took it awkwardly.

I stepped aside, pointing to the overcoat. "If you please, gentleman, shoot it."

He blinked, muddled by the request. But he didn't think much after that. Raising the gun, he shot once, twice. Everyone flinched with the sudden crack of sound, including myself. Did it work?

I examined where he had shot, a self-satisfied grin creeping up on my face. "Heather, can you find the holes in this?"

The brunette, after a moment, walked beside me. Her finger, thin and shaky, trailed along the rough fabric.

"No, I can't," she announced. With a flick of my wrist, I pulled the coat down and slid it back on. Heather frowned at the dents in the metal. Her hazel eyes trailed up to mine and she was close enough I could examine the specks of yellow and orange towards the center.

Those eyes were drawing me. After a second, I realized I _was_ being drawn in. My eyes snapped shut and when I reopened them, I felt different. Shorter and fabric scratching in different places.

I gazed at myself and the gawky features that make up me. I gazed down at the body I occupied and found two extra friends I normally don't have. Heather was one of the scary ones. You don't realize how intimidating she is until you realize this could make or break you when you're in a Game for your life.

Somehow, if I reached out, I could feel my own heart beating, like staring through a memory. I couldn't control my body, which freaked me the fuck out.

I flicked my, er, Heather's head, the body I was in. I winced at the pain. Okay, that's how that works.

The crowd looked awfully confused. With some of Heather's gesturing and other odd movements from both of us, they slowly caught on. The Heather-me patted down the frenzied black strands of hair and stumbled back. She already managed to claim my clumsiness. Me-her looked up with too large gray eyes and smiled sweetly. Wow, I do have a nice smile, now I get the effect I have. My voice is pretty warm sounding too.

The sucky feeling came on again. I blinked and nearly toppled with the force of slamming back into my own body. Heather and I stared at each other panting.

"I announce the tributes of District Eight; Heather Aurum and Brodric Loveless."


	10. District Nine: Hero

***Sigh* I haven't given up on you. Hell no, I'll never give up on this! I'm too stubborn to let it drop. I finally finished and sent in my Tears of Blood chapter (Snev won't reveal who's in the bloodbath until all the Pre-Games chapters are in and people are getting anxious.) I feel like a crap author when I don't update.**

***Fun fact* I went outside and hung on a tree branch to figure out how this girl would get down. Let's just say my first method sucked….**

**Another fun fact; the whole District Nine being in charge of grain confuses me. (Grain=agriculture=District Eleven?) **

_**Poise Adriona, District 9**_

"Doesn't all the blood rush out of your head when you hang like that?" Brittani giggled. I allowed my hands to dangle down and enjoyed the trickle of blood flow spreading through the tips.

"Yeah," I called up to Brittani perched on a nearby tree branch, only right-side up. I gripped the branch and slid my knees off and down. My feet dangled loosely, swaying ever-so-slightly with the breeze blowing by. "But it's exhilarating!"

I readjusted my grip, all my weight shifting to one hand, then the next. Brittani made her way down but I had my own route. The leafy foliage rustled with a light breeze picking up. I swung my feet and with the gained momentum, propelled myself forward. I've done it so many times, but I can still feel my heart race pick up and stomach twist as I free-falled. For a moment, my whole body fell completely upside-down. But the familiar sense of balance came in and with ease; I used the muscles around my hips to flip around my body.

Poised on my toes, I landed. Sorry, that pun was awful.

I always liked waking up early. Alyssa doesn't. She's fifteen and such the teenager. Sleep all day and do whatever teenagers do all night. Although, her boyfriend of the moment may or may not be really cute. He's got all these freckles and this good-natured laugh. Plus, he has an amazing voice. You can't help but listen to it sometimes. Alyssa doubts my claims, but I believe he's like me.

Brittani finished her descent, puffing in air from the exertion. She smirked but it split wide into a grin. It was holding some nervous feelings beneath it, though. I was nervous too. Reaping day. You could try to dodge the thought as much as you like, but it's still there, staring you down awkwardly.

"Come on," Brittani finally said after an expanse of silence. She linked her arm through mine and we sigh together in unison. This caused us to laugh, then harder as we did it in perfect timing. I found myself hiccupping and Brittani began tugging me along.

My dad was probably up early working out the calculations of recent harvesting amounts and mom was busy healing. She made ends meet in her own way, even if her usage of abilities wasn't completely legal. Covering for my own ability is easy; all that's needed is to say it's my natural, non-mutated ability.

We were only right outside my house. I picked a twig from Brittani's ruffled blue dress. While I changed into my own reaping dress in my room, I listened to her grown as she pulled on her shoes, which she claimed to be way too pinchy. It was her first reaping, but didn't have anything to worry about. She wasn't mutated in any way.

I get some weird looks sometimes. People think I'm just really lithe, really acrobatic. This surely isn't the case, and they know that. I know that. No normal being can climb and move through trees or any high place structure like that. My parents aren't part monkey. Let others think what they want to. It'll be best for both parties involved.

Brittani helped neaten the slight curls of strawberry blonde to my shoulders. I normally don't think much about them. They get all tossed about in my face when I climb and it's a little odd not to have my usual pigtails.

When I walked back down the hallway, I heard Alyssa's snores reverberate from her room. I paused. She should really be up by now.

Moments later, a bucket was perched atop of Alyssa's door, full to the brim with water. However, that's too simple you see. And when Elijah arrived, my plans fell right into place.

I knocked on Alyssa's door. I usually never pull pranks but the conditions were ripe. "Lyssa?" I called. She moaned, shifting in her sleep. I pounded harder. "Elijah's here. He'll be waiting in the living room."

Through the crack in the door, I watched my sister shoot up. It's sort of shocking how nicely dressed a girl could become in mere minutes. Elijah still stood in the living room and I pointed down the hall.

"She's just getting ready," I explained. Gosh, his hair is so flippable. I walked beside him all the way to my sister's door.

Alyssa's voice laughed sarcastically on the other side. "Very clever, Poise." She's noticed the bucket. A grunt of exertion came through as well. She's taken down the bucket.

I giggled, shoving Elijah up. He glanced at me, confused.

The door swung open and the water whipped out, not onto me, but Mr. Teenage Heartthrob. He flinched backwards into the wall, now drenched. Hook, line, and sinker.

Alyssa's honey colored eyes darted to me. I laughed lightly, slipping back before her manicured claws could make a swing on me. Elijah blubbered incoherently, unsure exactly at who to be enraged with and if he should be enraged at all.

I looped my arm through Brittani's and started off out the door. I waved to my sister one last time.

"Catch you later," I giggled. My friend and I were out and jogging down the block. I could still hear Alyssa's angry yells by the time we arrived. The groups were only to begin to form and I dropped Brittani's arm.

"Good luck," she whispered. She elevated herself on her tiptoes and closed me in a comforting embrace.

"You too," I replied. It was her first reaping. Even though she wasn't a mutant, there was always that off chance there was something in her that she didn't know about. It was rare, but there are tributes who are reaped like that.

Brittani drifted off to the twelve year old section, her tight shoes clicking against the cobblestone. She paused to rub at her sore ankle.

I counted my breaths. On one thousand one hundred sixteen, the escort was stepping up to the bowl and announcing for girl tributes.

Life passes by sometimes, and you don't quite realize what you have until it's not there anymore. Why must we be sent to the slaughter like this?

Please don't be me. Please don't be me.

"Poise Adriona." I sucked in a tight breath. And it's me. Dear Panem, it's me.

I clenched down my jaw, trying to portray as much determination as I could. Shoulders back, head up, I chided. I hauled myself up onto the tall stage at the front. The escort smiled sweetly at me. A lot of people tend to give me that soft look. The whole crowd it seemed was staring at me that way.

"No volunteers? Then onto the boys," the escort announced. She dug her hand in the bowl to ensure she got a good grab.

"Alix Estelle." The name didn't ring a bell. Maybe that's a good thing.

A boy slipped ominously from the crowd, his head ducked as if he didn't want anyone to see his face. He was seemingly calm though. Completely uncaring, in a way.

"I'm Alix," he said in a gruff voice. Alix looked a year older than me. He had the same teenage heartthrob feel as Elijah. Light brown flippy hair, a straight line of indifference as a mouth, and eyes as blue as the ocean. I've never seen the ocean in real life, but the pictures in all those TV shows and books were amazing. I smiled politely. I may have to kill this boy.

I'm in the Mutant Games. I'm going to win it. I swear.

"Now to display the tributes' abilities," she smiled still. This one seemed nice. "Poise?"

Without further questioning, I leapt up and gripped the edge of the power machine. People "ooh-ed" and I worked myself on top of it without much effort.

"Wonderful. Alix?" The boy shrugged, glancing up. For a moment he simply blinked, but then I watched him shrink some, just an inch or two. His hair lightened to a sandy blonde instead of a more golden brunette. The skin remained lightly tanned, just with a speckling of freckles. He was now a she.

Before the escort could comment, his looks changed again. The tiniest bit shorter and with a more elegant arch to the neck. Strawberry blonde hair fell by the heart-shaped face and it was hard not to recognize the angelic girl he portrayed now.

Me.

He had fun switching up his looks. After every try, he stood, breathing in slowly. It must take a lot of effort. More ooh's and the escort smiled even wider. "Our tributes."

Alix retook his original form, giving a long sigh of relief. Relief he was being reaped? Put into the Mutant Games?

Something was off about this Alix. I'll get to the bottom of it. Right before I win.

_**Alix Estelle, District 9**_

I wasn't entirely sure what was going on. My wheelchair screeched as it was rolled through the halls. Isn't this the Justice Building? Why am I here?

I mustered strength to sit up in my bed. What was going on?

The pretty nurse rolling the chair smiled down at me. I don't like the hospital people pushing me around. My parents are simple people and so is the rest of my family. Yeah, thirteen kids in total. Busy people, I know.

Troy paced outside a door. When his eyes fell on me, they crinkled up in mild confusion. Helena stepped in as his mouth formed the words to explain the mistake.

"Alan, you're here!" she called. She was second oldest behind Vincent, who was already off in his own family. Whoa, wait, Alan? We don't even have an Alan.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Did…dad get hurt? Mom? There was a healer somewhere in the district, she should have helped. Please, no, not my parents.

"Today's Reaping Day, Alan," Helena spoke slowly, clear and concise. "And your twin brother, Alix, was reaped."

But…I don't have a twin brother. Don't I?

I rubbed head, feeling patches of hair trying to grow in. My mind tended to fuzz sometimes, but I think I'd remember having a twin brother. I hope I'd remember my twin.

My chair was rolled in and I frowned in confusion. That kid looks like me. But different.

It took some time for it to mull over in my mind. Oh…no.

"Alix" sniffled once. Where was that calm exterior I was so used to? Tears broke down "Alix's" face.

"Why?" I asked. It's all I could manage. "Why would you?"

For a moment, my friend lost composure and a flicker of freckles started to fade onto my face. I forgot how I had looked when I had hair. I looked pretty good back then.

"I want to be with you, if the time comes." Don't sob, please, don't sob.

I waved the nurse away, along with my older siblings peeking in. Troy still looked confused.

"Now both of us are going to die," I stated stubbornly. "Why? Al, look at me."

Tears always turned "Alix's" eyes green for a moment. My friend had never been this uncontrollable. This stupid either. When they settled blue again, those eyes, "Alix" finally looked to me. He shuffled over, wrapping me in a hug. They're the only person that could do it without getting tangled up in the wires and tubes.

"Like I said. I want to be with you. Until the end. And what if I do win? I can come back; we can get good doctors, real doctors. You could actually live."

"And what if you don't?" I retorted. "You're my best friend, Al. You have one in twenty six shot of coming home. And if you do, how do you know the Capitol won't lock you up for this stunt? Make sure you die for it?"

"I'll figure it out," "Alix's" voice rose in pitch. "I just can't let you die. Not when I can do something about it."

I grimaced at Al. "Cancer sure is a bitch, ain't it?" I bit down on my lip on the eruption of tears afterwards.

"I don't want you to die, Alix!" Al squealed.

I awkwardly arranged myself, cringing with the effort. I angled Al's chin up and allowed my thumb to drag along my mimicked cheek to wipe away the tears. "You're the bravest person I've ever met, Al. If it makes a difference, I want you to know you're my hero. I love you, kid."

"Alix" hugged me one last time, just as the Peacekeeper announced time was up.

"Stay strong," I called as my nurse came back in. "No matter what, don't forget who you are." That statement seemed to be really redundant.

My friend was giving up everything for me. How can you ever repay someone for that? When you're doomed anyway?

I whipped away my tears. There are those simple things I miss. The tickle of lashes when I wipe my wet eyes, that's for one.

I glimpsed Al's face one last time and smiled. The other me gasped and winced at the sudden pain on I sent over. Ocean blue eyes rolled up and the smile comforted me. It was my trademark.

I ran my hand over the scars on my forearm. One stood out, as it should. Like a burn. Strange; you'd expect to either die of cancer of be mutated. It happened to be both options with me.

_**Other Alix**_

I traced my fingers over the words now seared into my forearm. I think Alix screwed me because it'll be like this no matter what form I take. I won't be relying on the ability too much anyway. I laughed at the quote though, seeing how spot on it was.

_It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends._

**Now, where is that quote from?**

**Alix, the shape shifter, (robots in disguise!) Alix isn't Alix. So who is he?**


	11. District Ten: Focus

**I got neurotic and started writing this as soon as the other one was published. And I just realized I named Alix "Moore" on the first page but Estelle in the chapter. *Sighs* This is what happens when your friend doesn't give her freaking character a last name. Well, I guess I'll just be working that in.**

_**Annabelle Hallestar, District 10**_

Waking up, I instantly knew Selene was over by the warm scent of fresh baked goods. The heavenly aroma lingered in the air, encouraging rumbling stomachs to come forth and taste its fluffy layer.

I climbed up out of bed, blanket draped over my shoulders like a cape. Out the door and down the stairs I went, eager to greet my sister.

"Sel!" I called happily. I slid on my footy pajamas in, grinning at my sister. Her dark curls fell down the sides of her face to mid-back, much unlike mine cut boyishly around my face. I liked it like that. Selene smiled warmly back to me, as warm as the bread at the bakery. She was only an apprentice but she has been baking all the treats of our house for years. Her arms were thick like the dough and face rounded out. It gave her a very merry atmosphere.

"Good morning, Ann. How'd you sleep?" she greeted. I yawned, sliding up onto a stool and leaning my elbows down on the island in the midst of the kitchen.

"Fine," I said.

"Any dreams?" she asked. Her hands were kept busy with arranging the rolls before her. She handed me a cinnamon one and I took a bite. Yum, still warm.

"No," I said after swallowing and a reasonable amount of mmm's.

Selene laughed. It's so light but comes from deep in her belly. "I guess you dream during the day only then."

At that moment, I heard the heavy footsteps of a sluggish Carla thump down the steps. She's my sister and all, and I love her but…

"Do you have any coffee?" she said, taking a seat beside me. Her curls were pinned back from her face and stuck up oddly at certain spots.

Selene smiled. The mug was still steaming on the table. I took the hot chocolate and dipped my bread into it. Double yum.

Carla took a swig, leaning her cheek onto her hand. There's morning Carla and regular Carla. This was morning Carla. But as soon as she straightened her hair and changed her clothes she was the especially peppy, especially overdramatic Carla Hallestar.

"Where's Pop?" she asked. The caffeine was already taking its course and Carla's back straightened in posture.

"He and Mama went for a walk," Selene stated. "With the dogs."

Most of the time, Mama's working. Papa threw his back out during a hard day at work and physically can't work anymore. So he's a stay at home dad. Carla thinks it's weird, but I like it. A different atmosphere than that of a mother.

Selene patted my hand on the table, a sad, knowing smile on her features. Today was reaping day after all. But, why worry about that? I smiled halfheartedly up to her. Carla wasn't so understanding. She pressed her lips together, observing Selene's gentle touch. It's my fault our last house came to an, eh, violent, explosive end.

"Well," she smiled, using her specialized peppy grin. "I'll be getting dressed." She marched up the stairs, ensuring her door's slam reached my ears.

Although the tension and overall cold shoulder from Selene, I smiled at my sister, who smiled back. In the same moment, the back door swung open. Four cold noses were instantly pressing into my ankles. My hand scratched the necks of our four dogs and after a few seconds, I was on my knees enjoying the licks of welcome. Pip managed to shove them all aside and reach in on me mainly. Fathead swung his massive, well, head and butted my stomach.

"Good morning," Mama greeted. I remained giggling on the floor until Papa placed down the morning meal for the herd. They all trotted to the bowl and fought for it.

Papa offered me a hand, helping me to my feet. I did so gingerly. The wince on his face cautioned me and I patted his arm kindly.

"It's alright, Papa," I said, wiping the doggy drool from my face. He eased himself down into a chair.

"I'm not sure how long you can go on like this," Mama murmured. Papa smiled a worn smile at her.

"I'm fine," he waved off. Papa asked me the same general question as Selene and I replied with sufficient answers.

"It's good to see Selene," I said. "Can you come by more often?"

Mama glanced to her oldest daughter, the familiar strange wrinkle forming in her cheek. I'm not as close to her as Papa or Selene for that matter. On a normal day, she'd already off to work.

"We'll see," Selene stated simply. I smiled at this and threw my arms around her plump middle.

"Love you!" I giggled. My face buried into her and it took some laughing and prying to finally manage me off. Selene shooed me away.

"Go get dressed," she said. "We'll talk later."

I dipped my head in a nod, short dark curls brushing in my face. "Save me some bread." The mastiff of our four dogs, Fathead, snuffled his mushed up nose to follow. I pounded up the steps and nearly skipped into my room as the four followed along.

"Sorry guys," I said as I closed the door. "Gotta change."

It didn't take long to force the lace dress over my head and onto my rounded body. I frowned on how it didn't quite fit like last year but it'd suffice. There was also a tear in the hip area and a pudding stain down the front. Meh, it'll work.

Reaping day. The thought of it brought a dropping sensation to my stomach. I shoved the thought aside. I'll be playing with Jake and Fathead and Pip and Coaltrain later.

I slipped from my door once dressed. Carla's voice traveled through the hall from her room.

"Come on team, let's hear the beat…" she recited. Carla has been very different from when she first put on that uniform two years ago. Me, I don't think I have the right…shape to be a cheerleader. Now, Carla is set upon going with some Maximus fellow and becoming prom queen.

I haven't started planning my future or anything like that. I'm unsure of how that'll work. I think it'll just come in time.

Wandering down the stairs again, the dogs scratching at my bare legs the whole descent, Papa waited beside the open door, listening to a chatty Anan.

"Hey, Hallestar," he waved to me. "We're running behind on schedule."

"I told you that you could meet me at the reaping," I said, eyes wide and blinking. Anan tapped his foot, checking his watch restlessly.

"Yeah, but I said we'd go together. I need my sidekick!" He looped his skinny arm through mine and tugged me out the door. I forced him back inside, giving my father a hug.

"Bye, Pa," I said, snuggling my face into his chest. He stroked my hair and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

"See you later, sweetie," he said.

Anan pouted and I finally relinquished myself to him. "C'mon!"

_**Hydran Ash, District 10**_

"Honey, could you stop?" Cavalia said. Wait no, Mother. Although, how many Cavalia's do you know? I don't know many, that's for sure. If you have met one, well, kudos to you. If you could, can you give me her number? I want to meet her and possibly hug her. Poke her too. Like (long pause) *pokes*.

I stopped in the middle of the drive way, snapping my attention to her. "Huh?" I wasn't doing anything wrong.

"Stop doing that," she stated in a more serious tone. Sighing, I put down the makeshift saddle.

"But this is the only day in the year the farmhands aren't at work," I whined. "When else could I ride the cattle?"

Mother shook her head. "No riding cattle. Especially after the last time." I pouted, kicking aside the saddle.

"Quack!" I shouted. Cavalia, gah, no, Mother, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Why must you deny my rights as a human being to ride cattle amuck through the dirt roads of District Ten?"

"Honey, we live in Panem," she sighed. "You have no rights." As if she were somehow overheard, Mother glanced nervously about from the porch. In the same moment, Odysseo (Father) stepped up beside mother from inside.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Oh, mentioning the wonderful world we live in with the beloved Capitol," she said, almost genuinely.

I cocked my head, confused. "No, you weren't. You were mentioning how shitty it is and how we can't do anything." Mother's face paled.

"How 'bout you get to the reaping, hon?"

I sucked on my fingers. Damn, I'm hungry. In seconds, I had a hand covered in yogurt. Not sure where it comes from. Most possibly the demi-elemental plane of yogurt. It's so good, not that frozen, wannabe ice cream crap. Although, I've been working on summoning that.

With an overdramatic clap of my hands, I summoned more yogurts to the ground by me.

"Okay," I smiled. "Bye, Mother, bye, Father." They waved tiredly towards me, leaning on each other. I think I heard mumbling about "That strange boy" but I honestly wasn't paying attention.

With a yogurt path, I grabbed a random piece of plywood meant for the new shed at the end of the driveway. Being a house at the top of a hill, this only meant pure fun. I laid yogurt across the descent and slamming the board down, hopped aboard (ha, accidental pun!)

It started slow but gradually the slimy, slippery properties of yogurt brought me sliding down. Dusty wind whistled through my hair, with just a few bits of yogurt. I opened my mouth wide and instead of the bits of strawberry I was expecting, tasted pure dirt. A fly flew right in, lodging itself into the back of my throat. Shit! You know what happens when you swallow a fly? It has its fly babies inside of you and then you become filled with them. Time passes and boom-you explode with little baby flies all zipping out of you. Or worse.

Oh wait; now I can't breathe. Damn, that's not good. Give me a second, I'm turning blue.

My body propelled past several horses and a few cows. Wow, my balance has improved considerably. How many people do you know can choke and yogurt board at the same time?

People darted out of the way as I came through. Whoa, I'm blue, and you don't help me? Gosh, the nerve of some people! My house was just up the road from the square. I slammed into the sign in table and was launched over into an unsuspecting Peacekeeper. He lifted me up by my collar.

"What shenanigans are you getting into, young man?"

"Yogurt boarding and choking," I said. But, since I was choking on a bug, it came out more like, "gag, gag, ech, blech, gag."

The man slammed my back. "Spit it out, boy!" That's just what I needed to do! The little sucker came right up, smacking the Peacekeeper in the face. He stumbled back, stunned, and it lead me to be dropped to the ground.

I called forth some yogurt and conveniently licked it off my fingers. The Peacekeeper glared.

"No using mutations in the public eye," he growled. I blinked at him, shrugged, and walked away. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the fourteen year old section," I said. "You're boring. Have a nice day, Mister!" The guy puffed red. Whoa, does he have fly babies inside of him? He looked ready to explode.

Another Peacekeeper patted his shoulder. "Let it go, Carl. Just let it go."

Skip, skip, skip... I moved into my section and was instantly struck by all the nervous glances. Whoa, why be all nervous? It makes me nervous. Nervous people make me nervous. And they don't do jack shit. It's like, "Hey, I'm nervous," and they do nothing. What fun is in that?

The mayor began the speech and I instantly lost all interest. What to do, what to do…? Hey, that machine on stage looks shiny. The sun made it extra shiny. All, shiny, shimmer, shine-shine.

I crept through the fourteen year old boys. None real paid much attention to me. To say the least, I don't have many friends. Not sure why.

To keep my attention, I began to flick the boy's beside me cheek. He must've not liked the attention because he swatted me away, glaring. Boredom, overpowering…must find fun object of interest.

This lady rants to long. Let's stare at the escort and-whoa, her ass is huge! Like, bam! She needs blinkers on those things, wide load, bloop, bloop.

"Hydran Ash." Whoa, sucks to be that guy.

….

There was a block shaped girl already onstage. Where'd she come from? I stumbled forward. Damn, okay, Peacekeeper there, Peacekeeper there…which means I'm only screwed. Fuck, this is going to end badly. Fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck fuck.

I walked onto the stage. You can do this man. You can summon yogurt! How many yogurt summoners on in the world? The panda guy won last year. He won…although; he's a panda now…I don't exactly want to be yogurt. Focus, man, focus. You can win.

Ha, focus. Since when do I focus?

The girl already onstage was about thirteen, square jaw, flat, smushed in nose, high cheekbones, with boyish black curls hanging about a few inches on the sides, not passing the jaw. Heavy brows, looked a little like a dude with man boobs…phew, what was that? Okay, she's not a fresh smelling daisy. I'd mention that aloud, but with her broad build, she looked like she could beat me up. The blank expression, however, didn't portray as such, but these mutts can be absolutely weird sometimes. Like me! She looked unlike my own brown hair and standard frame.

I shoved past all them to thy shininess. Stepping inside, I examined the interior when a specialist cranked up a knob on the exterior.

Instantly, a cascade of yogurt fell upon the crowd. They screamed but soon calmed as they realized it was just homework. Some kids sheepishly began licking their limbs, having not gotten such a treat in quite a while.

The escort gestured for my district partner to go. She blinked several times, finally showing some emotion. Her lips curled down in surrender, broad shoulders shrugged forward.

Upon entering, little orbs of blue sparked into the air, suspended there. The crowd oooh-ed, along with myself. A breeze picked up and they floated off.

The girl stepped back beside. Her body was stiff, watching the orbs fly away. One floated right into the power detector thingy and-

BOOM! Closely following this came screams and other BOOMS! My partner flinched at the sounds, uneasily backing away.

"Every man for themselves!" I shouted. I prepared to launch myself dramatically off the stage when a Peacekeeper gripped my forearm. No escaping now.

"Annabelle, Hydran," our escort instructed. "Off." I waved to the lady. Annabelle glanced over her shoulder one last time, shrugging.

-0-

Was it me, or did Cavalia and Odysseo seem almost…excited I was reaped? Weird. Must be trying to put on one of those brave faces.

Annabelle emerged from her goodbyes. A large red print bloomed on her cheek, in the shape of hand. I watched a boy be hauled away.

"Don't you dare give up, sidekick!" he shouted. "You're not giving up." Annabelle shrugged but nodded in his direction as we were shoved down the halls of the Justice Building. I hope the train smells nicer than here _and_ Annabelle.


	12. District Eleven: Suicide King

**Must…finish…reapings…Three more. (Ugh!) I'm usually in Pre-games by now…Got the week off so maybe I can finish them…**

_**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District 11**_

"Thank you," I said genuinely. But the door had already slammed shut, the breeze sending my hair flitting back with the gust forced out. I sighed, long and drawn out, before folding my service form for school neatly in half. Another thing done for today, I reminded myself.

District Eleven you'd think would be accepting of the differences of others.

A light drizzle fell from the sky overhead. I stared up at the overcast and felt cold pinpricks raise goose bumps on my skin. It would probably be idiotic to show up to the reaping dressed in a sweatshirt but I debated it for some time.

So after swinging by to say I cleaned up the front of Mr. and Mrs. Belding's' lawn, there'd be the reaping. I'm stopping by Old Mrs. Kramer's to help feed her cats right now. She's a nice lady, so I always ensure to stop by there early and first. There's still that new irrigation plan being put in that I could try to help on. We really could get that done soon…

Crops have been failing miserably lately. Everything was so…unbalanced. If it didn't rain too much, the fields were bone dry. This was the first time in a while people actually went hungry. We only get crops to keep if there's a surplus. There was already a lack of since most goes to the Capitol.

It's strange how much can change in the span of year. The crops failed. People started going hungry. People started getting sick. People started dying. People blamed other people. Like a certain mutant from last year who controlled the weather.

Which explains the door to the face. I'm a freak, I realize that. I never really had friends to begin with. But it's been getting worse. I can do all their work for them; drop of paperwork and help with some extra crops there, feed a cat in the meantime yet no one trusts me on an emotional level. Plenty of people are mutants; why are we such shutouts? I feel I do it all this to do something in my life. If you can even say I have a life.

I gave my head a quick shake to clear all these thoughts. Stay to the task at hand, I chided. There's also that extra credit assignment for History to get to and, damn, I promised the neighbor boy Harvey McGuire I'd tutor him later.

Ducking beneath trees for cover, I sprinted through the falling rain. The drizzle was quickly becoming heavy drops and my heels sank some in the dirt. The foliage above gave minimal coverage; the water dragged my hair down and my braid thumped against my back. I should probably go home first but it was getting late. I'd be late to the reaping. Plus, I really didn't want to face Mother and Father if they were still home. Mother especially, the cold woman she is. After I was born, she refused to have any more children in case she was to have another freak like me. I heard her say so myself, sort of accidentally. Father, in recent times, has been kinder and seems to be trying to repair things. Not sure how it will happen though.

I took to a back road behind the Justice Building. The smell of cigarettes and stale air wrinkled my nose and I passed by a group of staff, mainly janitors and other types, leisurely smoking on a low stoop, chattering about the hour to come. A young man winked at me as I passed. I simply stared ahead, ignoring the now laughing group.

"There you are!" I called. But, it wasn't me. Yes, it was me, just not me, me. Forget I mentioned anything, alright? My head hurts from thinking about that too.

An exact replica of me jogged up to me from where they turned the corner. Large chocolate eyes batted long eyelashes at me. Little flecks of water flicked off as she blinked and panted between two full lips.

We grasped hands without a word passing through. An instant feeling of little pinpricks stuck my skin. It was a little uncomfortable but as my hand seemingly opened up, I began to meld back with the other me. The moments this duplicate had witnessed seeped into my memories, and I looked back on them like I had actually did perform. Ow, that cat bit me hard. In a way, I did. Just a part of me did.

In one piece again, I smoothed the fabric of my skirt and the dark brown strands of my hair. The officials were now casting disdained looks my way. A Peacekeeper, I realized him now, rose with a hand to his nightstick at his hip. I directed my attention to the path ahead and strode away, avoiding the people behind me. The rain pelted down hard. A bolt of lightning danced across the sky. I counted four one thousandths before a returning call of thunder boomed out. Again, we really need those irrigation plans put into place.

I snaked through the crowd, signed in, and eventually took my spot within it. Girls gathered in huddles. Guys did as well. There sheepish expressions proved they weren't proud but it was cold. I rubbed my sleeveless skin. My own cold touch sparked shivers through me.

The mayor went through the entire speech and soon passed the microphone over to a man wearing magnifying glasses. A blue tarp was set up over them to block the inclement weather and mainly to protect the electronic equipment. The escort, a straight-forward man I almost slightly admired (almost, mind you), nodded to our mayor.

"Happy reaping day," he stated simply. "And may the odds be ever in your favor." His hand dove into the girls' bowl. One of the shop keepers asked me to help them earlier, didn't they? What was it for again? I think cleaning the windows.

He adjusted is glasses and peered down at the name. "Chrysanthemum Gord."

The flow of thoughts slammed to a sudden stop, succeeding in crashing and tangling together. Lightheadedness sent my knees wavering and insides convulsing. Oh, god. I was just reaped. This is it. I'm gone.

Stubbornness instantly beat it all away. The feelings were replaced by that of determination and diligence.

Shoulders shrugged back, I raised my head up and took my first confident step forward. It's another project, I thought. Just another project to do. Like feeding Old Mrs. Kramer's cat or tutor snotty neighbor kids whose parents sometimes "forget" to pay you the small fee you ask for.

The escort nodded to me as I stepped beside him. I nodded back.

"The gentlemen," he stated in the same simple manner. He slid the paper open and paused to read it.

"Lupe Ismene."

I wasn't sure how to respond to this. Somehow, all I could feel was dread. He seems like a friendly enough guy in my grade, if a little over the top at times. He walked forward, at first uneasily, but gaining and talking confidence into himself as he took the steps of the stage. He's…observant, and literally always has a trick up his sleeve. This could either be good or bad. I never realized he was a mutant. Although, thinking back, it made sense.

The escort nodded again between the both of us. He doesn't have any criers, which seem gave him his own confidence. "Now to display their abilities."

Lupe gestured for me to go first. It wasn't out of politeness. I sensed some planning going on. Still, without need of the machine, I opened myself up. The uncomfortable pinprick sensation swarmed the surface of my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing slowly through my nose.

"Ah, now we have two lovely young ladies," the escort grinned. The crowd clapped lamely and the other me reacted the same way as I would.

Lupe slid in as soon as I was done. He took the microphone from the escort and tilted his hat to cover the tops of his bright blue eyes.

"Happy Mutant Games, boys and girls. I am Lupe Ismene, and now your District Eleven male tribute." He glanced to me and a smirk crossed his features. Like any true aristocrat or showman, he gestured to me with a smooth sway of his hand. I watched his hand flinch and a bundle of flowers revealed themselves from what seemed like his sleeve.

I took the flowers as he offered them to me, a little surprised. They were…real. No fake or cheap looking fabric or plastic. They could have been picked from a nearby patch of daisies for all I know.

"And since I now have two lovely volunteers here to stand by and look pretty," he said, "would you please help me with this next trick?" I wasn't exactly sure what to say so I nodded instead.

"Thanks," he winked. In another smooth movement, Lupe removed his top hat, reaching in. It revealed the spiky brown hair hidden beneath it that contrasted with the rest of his sharp features. The brim reached his elbow and he tugged hard on whatever was inside. A long piece of rope revealed itself and he handed the end to the opposite me. "Hold this for me, hon?" As I head the end, Lupe continued to pull the rope from the hat. I stared at the other end offered to me, unsure if I should really play into this.

"Tie me up, if you will?" This kid is officially nuts. I raised my eyebrows up but Lupe rose up his eyebrows to mirror me. "Well?"

I frowned and set upon the task of doing so as he passed the microphone back. I made sure not to go easy; using tight binds and trying not to make it resemble a tangled mesh. Lupe smirked as I did so, his gaze set straight ahead. It made me wonder what was going on in his head.

Lupe wiggled in my ropes, unable to move. He hopped about, rolled around some, and swiftly climbed back to his feet. That's a remarkable feat in itself.

He stumbled to the side, bumping right into me. I stumbled back and the audience gasped as I nearly fell off the stage. Lupe backed into the machine and the tarp blew down at that moment. I watched him as it covered him entirely.

A Peacekeeper came and tugged it back to try to fix it. Lupe popped up energetically, fixing his jacket and placing his hat back atop of his head.

I quickly melded back to the other me, slightly glaring at the smirking boy. Does it really matter? I was making it home. He could be a complete ass or a true sweetheart but the end result was the same; I was going home.

_**Lupe Ismene, District 11**_

Chrysanthemum veered off from me. Her brown eyes cast downwards as we were guided inside. I rubbed my hands together thankfully as the warm, although stagnant, air embraced me. The rain had ruined my spikes some, some of the gel I had used to stick it up running down my face. My district partner couldn't get a read off me. I wasn't complaining. Exactly what I was hoping for, actually.

I fiddled with some cards I had in my pocket. Without flipping them over, I stated what each one was.

"Three of diamonds," I said. Flipped it over, sure enough, three of spades. "Ace of spades. Eight of clubs. Queen of spades." So on and so forth until. I removed my hat and placed it beside me.

I'm in the Mutant Games. Scary feeling, definitely. I nearly bit right through my lip when they said my name. But, eh, life will go on. It's called the Mutant _Games_ for a reason. It will be…interesting. I'll at least try to have some fun along the way.

The door finally opened and my Mother burst through with arms outstretched. I stiffened as she threw her arms around me and began to whale into my neck. She blubbered there for a while, soaking my clothes even more than they were already. Father slipped in more inconspicuously. His shoes fell silent against the carpet and I barely felt his weight carry on the seat.

"My baby," Mother carried on with. My nose scrunched up at her unusually loud manner. Father sat straight. He's smarter than Mother, obviously. He understands that crying isn't helping me. This is why I plan to just stay a bachelor with a big, fancy mansion.

Finally, done with hearing his wife, Father grasped Mother's shoulder, pulling her back. His grim face seemed…grimmer, an extra wrinkle here and there.

"You've been practicing your blades, right?" he asked. I nodded. Mother dabbed at her eyes and Father handed her a handkerchief in his breast pocket. She blew snot into it rather loudly and when she passed it back to him, he simply waved for her to keep it. "Alright, this time, work on actually hitting the moving person."

I smirked at this but Father remained completely serious. Mother leaned into him and he stroked her arm in a robotic gesture.

"You can put on a show. Play for the audience. Don't avoid the action; be the action. I'm not suggesting to streak through a Career pack but play the Game." I knew most of this any way, especially the streaking part, but I nodded without arguing.

Mother squeezed my knee affectionately. She smiled sweetly, speaking in her nurturing tone. "Take care, Lupe. We love you." Father's mouth twitched uncertainly at the last remark but he nodded stiffly either way.

A Peacekeeper ducked his head in, announcing time was up.

"Good luck, kid." They rose up, Mothering waving silently behind her shoulder. I waved mutely back.

Since there weren't any people who'd possibly come except stragglers that don't hold much emphasis in my life, I imagined what Chrysanthemum would be doing. Her goodbyes, obviously. Gosh, Chrysanthemum is a real mouthful. Which is better; Chrys or Mum? Meh, I'll go with Chrys.

She was only in the room next door, right? Well, this should be interesting. That's my word of the day, it seems. Interesting. The day had started off quite normal. Woke up, practiced this new trick I've been working on which involves a bunch of sharp things, dressed, scared some nine year olds on the way to the reaping with some scary stories. When you've carefully examined as many Mutant Games as I have, stories like those are so easy to create.

But, things indeed did become interesting after that. Scary interesting but not too bad.

With hat back on head, I wandered to the wall, glancing back to ensure the door was properly closed. I stroked the chipping structure and focused in on the occupants and people on the other side. I don't quite feel anything as it happens. One moment, I'm in my goodbye. Next, I'm standing in a corner of Chrys'. She sat as stiff as me with her dark brown braid falling straight down.

"Are you expecting me to be surprised Mother didn't want to come say goodbye?" she asked the man sitting in the chair beside her. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the wall.

"I'm sorry," the man said softly. It's her father, no doubt. The way he said those two words suggested being sorry for a whole lot of other crap he's probably done.

"So am I," Chrys replied. I couldn't read either of their expressions but got a very awkward vibe from them. Awkward relationship, probably treated her like crap along with her mother and is trying to make up for it now. Mommy's not being so easy to make nice and still hates her. I'd say blah, blah, blah, but it could be some useful information to have.

"You'll…try, right?" her Father asked. Chrys nodded without even a pause.

"Of course," she said. Her tone was determined. The side of Mr. Gord's mouth stretched out in what I'm assuming is a smile.

"If you make it home, I'll make it all up to you. I promise you, we'll be a family." She should seriously play the 'Mommy hates me' card. Good gameplay for future reference. She's determined enough.

A Peacekeeper came in, not even noticing me in the corner. "Times up." Chrys' Father reached over and hugged her and she awkwardly hugged him back.

"Love you," he said. Chrys only nodded. The door closed and Chrys was left wiping at her eyes, sucking in tears. Time to make an entrance.

My hands came together, clapping loudly but slowly. Chrys gasped in shock, spinning around and falling to the floor. Her hand went up to her O shaped mouth and a small eep slipped from her lips. As soon as my face registered in her mouth, she frowned. I merely laughed.

"I've always wanted to do that to someone," I said, taking a seat where her father sat. Chrys sheepishly climbed back up. I kept my hands busy with my cards, guessing each one in my head this time.

"What do you want?" she said. She wasn't harsh but not openly friendly either. Hm, someone definitely doesn't like their privacy invaded.

I shrugged sarcastically, exaggerating it by gesturing out my hands.

"Checking out the competition, simply. We have a show to put on and I'd like to not rely purely on improvisation." I flicked a card at her. "Seeing what little secrets there are."

Chrys' frown deepened. "I don't see why it matters." She examined my tossed card and then up to me.

"It does for me. Hey, have you ever heard," I pointed down to the king in her hand, tapping it as I explained, "of the suicide king?"

Chrys' eyebrows shot up. She didn't even bob her head in some sort of understanding. I went on, my gaze carefully set upon her. "Well, you can see it here on the King of Hearts. He used to hold an ax but they edited out to just a sword for some reason. Now it looks like he's sticking his own blade in his head."

The girl blinked at the card, then up to me. Her lips pressed together hard.

"I'll keep that in mind."

**Next time you get a package of Bicycle playing cards, look at the King of Hearts. You'll feel really special for noticing it and feel even more special pointing it out to your friends.**


	13. District Twelve: Voices Talk To You Too?

**Random Fun Fact: These two in our first POV remind me of the new Adam Lambert video. Nothing like the personalities shown but…yeah.**

**Another Fun Fact: Do you know how many times I spelled Robin, "R-O-B-**_**Y**_**-N"? A lot, okay?**

_**Robin Garven, District 12**_

"Robin! Damion! Wake up!"

I groaned, turning over and tossing the blanket over my head. Five more minutes, Mom…

_Wake up, Princess, _a voice prodded in my head. _Big day, people to see, places to get to. Hate to break you beauty sleep, sort of been chilling here in the subconscious for the past two hours. Would you like me to start singing you a tune?_

"Please don't," I mumbled aloud. Damion stirred some more, giving me a bit of a headache. His deeper voice chuckled.

_Sorry to be such a nuisance for you, darling, but Mumsy said to get our rear up._

I tousled my fingers through my hair. Coal dust lined the tips underneath my fingernails and I shuffled up onto my feet, tossing the thin blanket back onto the bed. Stretching my stiff muscles, I changed into some random pair of pants from my drawer and a blue button down. There's a cracked mirror above my dresser and I looked in to find the smudges of grime on my face. Blue eyes reflected themselves back, examining me with gradual clearness.

"Robin?" Mom called. "Or Damion?"

"I'll be right out," I called back.

_Tell her I'm just going to chill here, alright?_

Ha ha, very funny, man.

_Someone's touchy this morning._

I opened and closed the flimsy door of my room, walking down to the kitchen. Damion patiently waited for me to respond and chuckled internally as I scrambled for some sort of retort.

"Stop being such a douche, Damion." Mom's eyebrows rose up as I walked in mumbling this. She leaned on the countertop, laying the dishtowel in her hand on the stack of drying, clean dishes, and her expression seemed a little pissed.

"Robin, don't use such language."

_Sorry, Mom._

The sides of my mouth twitched dispassionately at this and I slid down at my chair at the table. "What's for breakfast?" I asked. Mom rolled her eyes, gnawing on a rather hard piece of bread.

"You're a big boy," she said. "Fetch your own breakfast." I wrinkled my nose at these words. Dad, walking in just then, worked uselessly at tying the knot he was trying to pass off as a tie. Mom rolled her eyes at this now, undoing the mess and maneuvering it into what resembled a wearable piece of fabric.

"Morning, Dad," I said. After a moment of some buzzing in my brain, I added, "Damion says hi too."

The man made an awkward face at this mention but Mom simply reached up and kissed him. "Cheer up, Roger," she said. Dad wrinkled his nose in a familiar gesture. Both Damion and I laughed.

"Hi, boys," he said. The whole Robin/Damion thing never really settled in him. He was fine with pretending he had one fine son and that was all. We could all possibly go on pretending that. It's sort of hard for me, though, when I have the damn bastard taking every chance he can get at to mock me.

_What else am I supposed to do? Stand by and be your conscience?_

Aren't consciences supposed to tell me to do _good_ things?

_Mention that the next time Tabatha walks over to talk to us. I won't even try to translate your incoherent stammers._

Shut up, asshole.

I ignored Damion's voice, rising to my feet. My stomach grumbled hungrily but having really no food to be fed to it, I waved goodbye.

"See ya," I said.

_I hope._

Mom draped her arms around me as I passed by. "Love you, honey."

"Love you too, Mom." I awkwardly patted Dad's shoulder and said a few straggly goodbyes over my shoulder. Halfway down the block, I glanced back and saw Mom and Dad leave the house. The woman laid her head on his shoulder, relaxing and sighing into him. I forced my gaze away, focusing on.

What was with that? 'I hope'?

_It's reaping day, sonny. We're not exactly safe. You can't just assume you'll see it through the day._

But look at the odds-

_Tell that to the little twelve year old who died last year._

He's on this again. Damion loves little kids. He truly wanted that little girl-

_Olive, man, her name was Olive._

-to win. The other kid, eh, we were indifferent to. In recent times, we've sort of agreed that all fourteen year olds and fifteen year olds should really die. Although, never like that. I was hoping Olive would win. Let's say our abilities have a lot in common.

_You never know which day will be our last. And with all the stupid crap you do, our worries are doubled._

What? I don't do stupid crap. Says you, king of all stupid stunts.

_Should I act slightly hurt to make you feel better about that insult?_

Can you not be an ass for today?

_Can you not answer my questions with just more questions?_

Since when do I do that?

_I suggest you just stop talking and continue on our journey._

I rolled my eyes, mumbling under my breath. Really, what were the odds? We've been eligible since we were twelve (the mutations have been around since we were born, really) and my name is in there three times. Our birthday is only in a few weeks, actually. Seventeen years since the world allowed a "beautiful" baby into its midst. Two boys, one baby body.

In that moment, Tomus skid past. I narrowly dodged him, but was instead slammed into by Groge running from the other side. We both fell to the ground with a loud groan. We seriously needed some new friends.

"Hey," Groge grinned painfully, pausing to grip my shoulders and examine my eyes, "Robin. How goes it?"

"It goes good," I said, although, Damion was laughing his ass off. You're only laughing because you're not in control. Tomus pressed his lips together sheepishly, offering some help up. I rubbed the back of my head where is banged the ground.

"Isn't it well?" Tomus asked as we clambered to our feet. Groge shrugged, patting his bum. When most people believe you have some weird dual personality, they tend to avoid you. This then leaves the weirdoes to hang with us. Neither of us mind, although, it can be…a pure adventure, to state it nicely.

_I think they're awesome._

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

"Wake up, Avara." I blinked my eyes once from where they were set staring upon on the wall opposite me. Mother's footsteps creaked on the floorboards as she moved. She laid a hand on my side and shook me gently to wake me.

"I'm up," I said softly. She flinched back at the sudden use of my voice.

"You need to leave soon." The woman backed away, closing the door behind her. The only apparent sound was the tick of my wall clock and my movement on my bed's springs. I stretched my stiff muscles, instantly chilled by cold in the air, and wrapped my arms around my body. The first of the voices trailed about but I shook them away. Just a moment of peace. Still, the stubborn ones whisper their needs, their desires, and their stories.

I try to ignore them but it's hard. I can't help but listen to some of their pleads and feel horrible. It's hard though. You want to help, but sometimes you just can't. Their requests are beyond my control at times.

From my drawers, I pulled a grey skirt and a dull red blouse. It was so unsaturated of color; I'd guess you'd call it more pink than red. The edges of its collar were frayed and tickled my neck when I slipped it already buttoned over my head.

_Feed my children, please! They're hungry, they don't have a mother!_

_You have to find my brother. Our father murdered me, he's next! Please, you must save my brother._

_It's so cold, Miss. Can you find me a place that isn't so cold? It's so dark. I don't like the dark, Miss._

_Let us in._

I sucked in a tight breath at the last sentence. The dead's voices all dropped out as I tensed up. This voice was always so prominent.

_You don't have that much time. Let us in. You hear us. We hear you. You can see us. We see all._

I could quite identify this voice. It's not quite old, but not young either. It isn't male, it isn't female. Just a murmur slowly increasing in volume every time it crawled into my head. More like a thought than a voice at all.

_We are strong together. We see all. You'll need us in future times. You don't have much time yet._

"Time?" I whispered. "What do you mean?"

_We see your past. We see your future, _it said. _You can set us free._

"I don't understand. Please, explain," I urged. Different voices spoke but none were the one I searched for. It had stopped speaking. Closing my mind out from them, I allowed my tired head to collapse into my hands.

My door's sudden opening sent a surprised jolt down my spine. My heart's pace jerked to a gallop and nearly fell over the foot of my bed.

"Come, Avara," Father said. "You don't want to be late." I brushed by Father and entered into the entrance way. Mother had her nice dress on and adjusted her eyeglasses, already heavily coated with a layer of coal dust. Wrinkles from frowning often lined her mouth and she opened the door. Pale sunlight streamed in and I blinked at her, eyebrows scrunching together worriedly.

"Go on," she gestured. The cold approach caused me to sigh beneath my breath. Hesitantly, I took my first few steps outside. I cringed as I became fully engulfed in sunlight, all the way out in the open.

Mother and Father stepped on either side of me and, as if it were some bizarre ritual, guided their deranged child to the reaping.

It's been like this for a while. Most of my life, to be specific. People skirted about us as we passed, some whispering amongst themselves. Mother's grip on my arm tightened at some exchanges and I cast my eyes downwards to avoid her burning gaze.

Some people waved. Very few, mind you. And neither Mother nor Father saw them. No one saw them. They stayed to the shadows, grimaces upon their faces, only strong enough to make themselves seen.

_It hurts! The pangs of hunger, the pangs of a broken heart! I can't live like this._

_I should have run when the canary stopped singing._

_Bastards got me killed. Those bastards got me killed! They need to pay! They need to die and feel the pain of death like the scum they are._

One formed enough to show itself before me. A starved-looking boy stared at me. He didn't even have shoes.

"Help me," he whispered. "It's so dark. I'm so hungry."

Mother signed me in as we approached the reaping. As we came closer, my shoes began to dig into the ground. Father gripped my shoulder once and rather roughly nudged me forward towards the forming crowd. The Peacekeeper rose an eyebrow up at me, shook his head once, and escorted me to the seventeen year old section. Several children pointed me out to their friends, others coldly and fearfully stepping away.

This is where my discomfort came on strongest. Wrapping my arms around me, I stumbled into the penned in area. My eyes squeezed shut and I stood there, slightly rocking, attempting to console myself. Somehow, I found relief in the voices of the dead. They mingled in with those around me and it could truly be no different as if I were in my room.

A girl's dress brushed my bare knee and I flinched back, startled. I bumped right into another girl, who grumbled as she stepped into a muddy patch.

"Watch it," she snapped. Seeing me, her grey eyes widened fearfully.

"Oh," she said uneasily. "Sorry, m-my fault."

I clenched my fists, watching her big eyes set on me. It was as if we were both too scared to look away, as if the mere break would enable the other to react angrily. My eyes couldn't take in anything specific, a new piece of action overwhelming me.

"Why hello!" a boy popped into sight with, right between the two of us. The girl took advantage of this distraction and shoved her way back. I backed away myself but the boy urged closer. He's in my grade, I recognized. "How are you?"

"D-Do I know you?" I stammered out. Something could go wrong any second. Plenty of things have gone wrong during reaping day. It's so tight…so compact…nowhere to go…

"I thought you'd know me," he grinned. "Groge, Groge Templin. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Hi," I squeaked. This happens a lot too. Guys who'd think it'd be funny to dare each other to talk to me. It hurts, admittedly, but I've gotten over it. Sort of.

_Have you felt a blade enter through you? Its sharpened pain slices away your flesh like nothing and you feel the warmth leave you, the very blood that keep you alive, until you completely gone._

_Whoa, Mister, that was kind of morbid!_

_Shut up, all of you! I need to tell her to help my mother…_

"Please, silence," I mumbled. Groge cocked his head.

"Eh?" he said, leaning forward. "How does the whole ghost watching thing work anyway? Could I just like take your hand or-?"

His hand wrapped around mine. My heart beat was racing and his touch sent my skin crawling. I needed to go, get away…

Groge fought hard to pull his hand away. But he couldn't. I felt my panic begin to eat away at him and his own panic engulfed him as well. He yelled in pain, feeling the pain only those who have passed on could feel. The sensation was almost…enlightening, for me. To share the load with someone else. He could feel everything I feel now.

Pain dripped from a new source. I grunted in pain and Peacekeepers swarmed through to pull Groge off. A distinct space of a barrier was put between me and the people around me. My limbs grew heavy and I couldn't quite breathe right.

"Um, am I interrupting something?" the escort said onstage. How out of it was I? "I'm calling the girls name. Ahem."

_You need to control this. Control this and make use of it. You are strong. We are stronger together._

I watched the escort move to the bowl and draw a name. She smiled at us, and then opened it up.

"Avara Zenia."

_We are strong as one._

My name processed through. My vision swam and everything blacked out.

_**Damion Garven, District 12**_

I think they're awesome.

"Ah ha, ha ha," Robin said sarcastically. Oh yeah, maybe I should explain shit since Robin has you thinking I'm his dual personality. It all starts seventeen years ago. See, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they decide to have a baby. So yeah, some weird stuff goes on when they go beddy-bye and this happens, that happens, tada, Mommy has a baby in her belly. In our case, she had two.

Now, when the Capitol decides they don't want to be suppressed any longer, they drop bombs over all of Panem. Pregnant Mommy and nervous Daddy run for their lives, along with their little babies. Mutation starts going on and they thankfully find that they have survived. But after a trip to the doctor's, Mommy discovers one of her babies has vanished and the doctor rules that it died in the bombings. Obviously, this was a crappy doctor if he didn't think about where the baby fucking went.

I felt Robin begin to freeze up as we came upon the reaping area. I sighed in his mind. It's hard to explain what it's like in here. When I'm not in control, it's like a little hang out spot. I see through windows, in a way. I can hear and see everything Robin is feeling but I'm just occupying the space. I don't actually feel it. Now, think of me saying that without sounding like a dumbass.

You want me to take over? I asked. Robin nodded.

_Please?_

Fine, you baby.

Without arguing, I shoved the boy from his control. Yeah, more hard to explain crap. It's like I'm waking up, sort of. I slide into the controls, the arms and the legs, the mind. Robin gets really annoyed how easy I can do it.

Tomus glanced to me, shrugging as Groge ran off into the girl's area. I rolled my eyes.

"A sufficient slap from a girl will do him some good. I think other individuals deserve a nice slap from a girl."

_You're gonna go there? Really? Now?_

Of course I am. What kind of brother would I be if I didn't? And you sort of interrupted me before. I was explaining to the people the cause of my existence. Meh, I'll just be a troll and drop the subject for now.

I trudged to the sixteen year old section. Robin isn't a people person. He won't even argue that point, he knows he isn't.

Our whiny mayor went on with the opening speech and I glanced to where Groge had disappeared to. I squinted through and spotted his ruffled blonde head in the midst of the seventeen year olds. Suddenly, he burst out in pained screams. The mayor dropped out on the last line of the speech and Groge's yells grew louder.

Peacekeepers charged in, beating off whoever grabbed him. A dark-haired, dull looking girl finally let go of him and panted heavily as everyone was calmed and Groge cleared away.

"Um, am I interrupting something?" the escort said primly. Must…not…want to…choke…overly girly chick….She sounds needy, is all I'm saying. Needy chicks are so annoying.

"I'm calling the girl's name. Ahem." She just had to say ahem.

"Avara Zenia."

Avara….

_Isn't that the freaky ghost chick?_

Yeah. She hears voices in her head. How crazy is that?

The girl walked to the stage in a staggering motion. It was as if she were dragged by an invisible force.

The escort already had the boy's name in her hand. "Robin Garven."

Robin. Since I sort of don't exist, there's only one way this can go.

Shit.

_Shit._

Robin began babbling but I ignored the buzz as I walked to the stage. Okay, we can make this work. Somehow.

Robin, listen. We need to work together for once.

…_we're gonna fucking die! Like, horribly, dead, gone, I never even kissed a girl…_

Yes you have, you dork. Hey, I have my ways.

Avara stood sock still. No, that's a lie. She was ever so slightly shaking. Her glowing blue eyes' pupils shrunk to mere pen dots.

"Now to display our tributes'-"

Suddenly, Avara widened her mouth and screamed. It brought everyone to their knees. Wait, I remember this girl. She had done this weird ass shit years back, a decade ago. Some kids were picking on her and she just exploded. Dead spirits fizzled out, wreaking havoc everywhere, haunting living people all over the school. Everyone was pretty fucked up afterwards.

The high pitched scream went straight through you.

_I think it's called a ghost wail._

Yeah, what he said. Every bone in me vibrated immensely. My mind spun and my entire being was being slapped around.

I looked at the girl, and saw her once blue eyes were now filled with their own blood. That's fucking creepy. Wasn't any one going to do something?

Scowling, I focused in on my arm. Its flesh tones darkened, and from it came a purple, foggy blade. Forcing myself to my feet, I slashed at the girl. The blade dragged through her arm, only skimming it, but the ending licks of shadows latched themselves onto the wound. Avara stopped short and the blood began to clear away. Soon, she was screaming again. But this was to a more physical agony, that of my shadows.

Different sort of shadows darted along the stage. Fearing my safety, I pulled my own shadows back into place. It seemed to be just in time, because Avara's shadows slammed me backwards.

_What the hell was that?_

Not sure, man. I sat up, along with the rest of District Twelve. Avara was dragged off the stage by Peacekeepers.

_I didn't even get to show my powers!_

I rolled my eyes as the Peacekeepers gripped my arms. The escort laughed nervously into the microphone.

You making flaming balls, I laughed. Let's keep a few secrets.

**Wow…yeah, that was longer than I was hoping for. God, bear with me through it, okay? I'm not even sure I wrote it well. Just one more. Then onto the Pre-Games.**


	14. District Thirteen: Gifted

**Ah, District Thirteen. My personal favorite of the districts. Reserved, to themselves, rather badass in my opinion.**

**And do any of you watch South Park? If you do, this first song will make a lot more sense…look it up, "Kyle's Mom is a Big Fat Bitch Song"…**

_**Xavier Drascal, District 13**_

Jarrod's eyes lit up at those words. Miranda stopped short and I already had a breath sucked into my lungs.

"Well-!"

"Xavier, don't you-"

"Well-!"

"I'm warning you-"

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes and leaning back on a wall, arms crossed. Miranda sighed in relief.

"Good, my mom already doesn't like you, if she heard you singing that-"

I rocked my weight to my feet again. "Weeeell, Miranda's Mom's a bitch, she's a big fat bitch, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world, she's a stupid bitch, if there ever was a bitch, she's a bitch to all the boys and girls!"

Jarrod was already on the ground with his hands at his sides. Miranda scowled intensely but I skipped around her.

"Stop it!" I grinned as she marched up to me with an angry finger at the ready.

"Monday she's a bitch, on Tuesday she's a bitch, on Wednesday to Saturday, she's a bitch, then on Sunday, just to be different, she's a super, king, kameha-meha biatch!" I belted. Veering off course, I hopped onto Jarrod with one foot on the top of back and the other on his thighs and rocked about to balance myself.

Miranda pounced then and I slammed back against a metal door with a very hard smack. "I told you to shut the fuck up!" Both of her hands covered my mouth and she lay atop of me. She jerked her hands back as I licked one. That use of persuasion never gets old.

"You're the one who called her a bitch in the first place," I accused. "What did you expect to happen?" Miranda glared hard at me and I smirked at her right back.

"I didn't call her a bitch; I said she was bitching at me." She blew a strand of hair from her eyes, still trying to set a full forced glare upon me. "Difference."

Off to the side, Jarrod moaned. He crawled over to us, rubbing his sore neck. "Don't use me as your surf board stand prop either. You're heavier than I thought." I'm not fat. I'm not even fluffy.

"Alright. But just to let you know," I said, looking back to Miranda, "you're making it hard not to make fun of you when Sheldon and Leonard are right there." Miranda's face flushed a shade of red and she hopped up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Perv," she muttered.

Smirking, I willed my features to alter. My lips were instantly softer and I felt cheeks thin. "Perv," I mimicked in a girlish tone.

Jarrod grinned pedo-bearishly sideways towards me. "Why'd you name her boobs that again?"

I cocked my head curiously back. "I'm not entirely sure. They look like a Sheldon and a Leonard."

Miranda shook her head. "Why do I hang out with you guys?" Her eyes narrowed onto me, a mixture of annoyance and concern on her face. "And can you be normal? They're seriously cracking down on that."

Both Jarrod and I popped up to our feet, although sore. My face went back to normal. We threw an arm around her as we stood on either side. "Why hang out with us? Because you can't help but love us. Me, at least. Jarrod, not sure, he was the only non-diseased one at the animal shelter." Our friend rolled his eyes as we finally continued down to the elevator. Some of the neighbors had already cast us some dirty looks and my head hurt like a Miranda's mom.

"I'm seriously having some trouble breathing," Jarrod said, rubbing his chest. I sheepishly cringed through a grin at him. Miranda elbowed my side, which only made me cringe further.

"How 'bout some fresh air?" Miranda suggested.

"We live underground, Randy. Where the hell is the closest source of fresh air?"

We boarded the elevator and Jarrod's hand hovered over the button when a girl darted down around the corner of the hall. "Hey, hold the car!" The girl's brown curls bounced about a freckled face as she ran. I repeatedly tapped the close button. Miranda backhanded me.

"Ow," I whined. "Why must you smack me like we're some old married couple?"

The door began to slide shut and I yanked Miranda's arm back to keep her from holding it open. Raquel transitioned to a sprint. I fluttered my fingers towards her.

"Bye, sister dear," I yelled. Miranda scowled at me when it closed completely.

"You're an ass, you know that?" Just as her words came out, my spoken of sister appeared through the doors, literally through them. She slammed into Jarrod, gripping his shirt's front to keep from stumbling. He smiled awkwardly but she backed away unfazed.

"Dick," she growled.

"I don't think a thirteen year old should be using those sorts of words, Raquel," I said.

Raquel stood on her tiptoes. Angry blue eyes stared evenly into my own. "I told you, it's Rocky. Rock-y, not this stupid Raquel."

"You watch way too much Capitol Channel television." Raquel stomped her foot. The elevator landed on ground level, and before it could even open, she leapt out. I glanced sideways at Jarrod.

"Stop checking out my sister," I said. "It'd creepy, man." He opened and closed his mouth several times. I reached up and snapped it closed for him.

The doors slid open and I jumped out, probably without the same dramatics as Raquel. I placed both hands on my hips and raised my head high to look dramatically off into the distance.

"Duh-duh-duh-duuuuuuuuuuuh!" I screamed. Miranda walked by, rolling her eyes. Jarrod hopped up beside me and matched my proud stance.

"What shall we do now, Captain X?" he asked. I wiped my nose, gazing over the scene of gathering people. Shops and the hardly ever seen Justice Building sat off to the side of the stage. The sunlight glared into my eyes and Jarrod shaded his own. We only ever go above ground twice a year. It'd be easier to appreciate if it wasn't based around the Games. We almost had a winner last year. He may have been an ass, but it was better than nothing. We're still not sure how he died. Most people choose to cremate the bodies of the dead. We live underground so burying bodies is disturbing in a way.

"Time to not die," I announced. Using more force in my voice, I let out, "Off to the reaping!"

"Can you be quiet for once?" Miranda shot over her shoulder.

I shook my head. As loud as humanly possible, I shouted, "NOPE!" scaring quite a few people around us.

We split from there, Jarrod to the sixteen year olds, Miranda to the girls' fifteen, and I to the boys' fifteen. I attempt to slide in, shouting, "Greetings, gentlemen!" The only recognition I received was nervous glances or humored eye rolls.

Our overworked escort came to the front of the stage as the mayor finished up. He tried to hit on last year's girl tribute. It was hilarious when she turned into a he, leaving the man very confused.

He smiled uneasily, gesturing to the girls' bowl. "Now for the lucky young lady who will have to honor of representing District Thirteen in this year's Mutant Games!" His hand dove into the bowl, swished around, and came up again. The slip fluttered in the breeze and he peered down at it, a slight smirk on his face.

"Nora Huntington." A nervous looking eighteen year old slunk forward, head bowed. Huh, wow, I know her. Sort of. Not really. She dated my older brother Zach. Maybe. I should pay attention more often. Poor sap.

"I volunteer!" There was amount of confusion. Volunteers. Not common. No, never has happened here in Thirteen. "I'm Chelsey Skyeren, I volunteer."

Skyeren? She's in my grade. Our siblings are the same age, Zach and her brother, Raquel and her younger sisters. I never thought of her as being suicidal.

The escort man glanced about. Volunteers aren't exactly common. "Chelsey Skyeren?" he repeated, eyes darting about and searching for the volunteer. Suddenly, the spoken of girl appeared out of nowhere. Black hair curled down the sides of her round face and she tugged at the frayed edges of her dress. She smirked at the escorts' reaction. For a moment, she disappeared again but quickly became visible. An invisibug it seems. Most kids at school stick their noses up at her. I think it's pretty badass.

"Gentlemen, now," the escort stated, much more briefly. He snatched the paper, probably seeing flashes of last year. "Xavier Drascal."

"Shit!" Well, I've had a nice life.

_**Chelsey Skyeren, District 13**_

"Chels?"

My door swung open and Judara peeked her head in. At least, I think it's Jude. She isn't completely dressed, still in sleeping gear, so it was hard to distinguish quite yet.

"Are you in there?"

I looked down at my lap and smiled at my lack of visibility. Trying to rustle my sheets, I tiptoed up to my sister, leaning in close to her face. I reappeared before her.

"Boo!" The girl jerked backwards in shock, tripping and falling over the area rug of our living room. Our living quarters was small, one of the lower level ones. By this hasty response, I knew that it was indeed Judara.

"I told you not to do that!" she whined. I chuckled beneath my breath, ruffling her black curls. In the kitchen, only separated from the living room by the stopping of the rug, Mom and Dad were finishing their drinks of hot tea, Mom, specifically, Dad's crossword puzzle which he will claim he did when Mom told him all the answers without needing to bat an eye.

"I have my ways," she'd wink when you asked how she could do them so fast. We've all just stopped asking.

Quorra, who was already dressed in a reaping outfit and with hair tied back, mopped up the rest of her breakfast with a slice of bread. Castro frowned upon an open textbook, shaking his head in dismay. He adjusted his glasses, not bothering to acknowledge me as I sat at the table.

"Mrs. Germans wanted us to swing by her apartment before the reaping," Mom said, rising to her feet. "Can you kids handle yourselves?"

Quorra shrugged. "Depends." Castro chewed on his thumbnail, too engrossed to respond. Dad gnawed on his chapped lips as he surveyed the scene.

"C'mon," Mom said. She tugged his arm, pushing open our sealed door and tugging Dad along with her free hand. "We trust you all. See you later."

"Or not," Castro finally spoke up with. Mom's smile wavered for a moment but she continued on out the door with Dad in tow. As soon as they were gone, Judara began hyperventilating.

"I'm going to be reaped, I just know it!" she said between gasps. Quorra inched closer to her twin, stroking her back. Jude gripped the table tight. Her gray eyes stared ahead and her pale face whitened even further.

"You won't be reaped. You aren't even mutated," I said. The fact Mom and Dad left bothered me to no end. They know Jude would get like this. And really, it was reaping day. I don't think it's wise to take advantage of those odds in place. And it's not like, even if we weren't picked, that certain children wouldn't try to volunteer…

"B-b-but you are! I could be drafted like that twin from last year somehow. Or worse, there could be something in me I don't even know about!" Quorra wrinkled her nose worriedly and I pulled both of them into me.

"No one here is going to be reaped. No one is going into the Games," I soothed in my usual soft tone. I could feel Jude quaking and Quorra's muscles tensed incredibly. The snap of Castro's textbook closing shut brought our attention towards him for a moment. A knowing little smirk crossed his features. He refused to my gaze.

Quorra glanced between the two of us, frowning. "What's going on?" Judara hiccupped. I smoothed out one of her curls, sending her off to go get dressed.

"Quorra, join her," I added.

The younger girl scrunched her face up, still not satisfied by Castro's sneaky remarks. "But-"

"Quorra, just listen to me. Please." My sister crossed her arms, but after a moment, rose and followed Jude. I was left fiddling my thumbs and staring at my one and only brother. "Could you stop?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Stop what? Covering for you?" I glanced down to my hands and he laughed low, beneath his breath. "I know you want to volunteer, Chelsey but seriously?"

"Why shouldn't I?" I said, almost to myself.

"Many reasons, hon. For one, you have a very small chance of actually winning. If I were planning to volunteer, I'd at least make an attempt at training and wait until I'm older. Secondly, you're doing it to have some sense of meaning in your life which is pretty bull in my opinion."

I frowned. "Why would you say that?"

Castro shrugged, leaning his chin into his cupped hands. "Because it's true. Admit it; you're a freak. Get on with life and move on."

My own lack of bravado and my use of common sense was the only thing keeping me from launching myself across the table and strangling him. I was going to volunteer.

"Come," I said, putting an end to the conversation. "We need to bring the girls to the reaping. And not one word about this to them." Castro smirked and shrugged sluggishly. He just loves getting under my skin.

The twins walked back in, fully dressed and cleaned up. Both were hesitant as I guided them out, shooting one last warning look to Castro. He ignored all of us, plowing ahead and rushing down our hall to the elevator at the end. About three doors down, a blonde head peeked out. She smiled at the sight of us and waved excitedly.

"Hey, Bells," I greeted. Judara ran up and rapped her arms around the girl. Quorra's skirt flapped above her knees as she jogged to catch up.

Belladonna smiled, looking up to me. I haven't even told my best friend of these plans. I hope she's not too angry with me. Let me try to explain.

When I was ten, there were these kids. I was a quiet, shy young girl, an easy target for bullies. I still am, in a way. I've figured out how to avoid people but it doesn't make their feelings towards me any better. I guess it's your typical situation, I was teased, I couldn't take it, and so I disappeared. This made my life even worse because I was labeled a freak. This past year has been even harder. There are all these laws being put into effect, oppressing the mutated. People who were generally nice, teachers and adults even cast me aside, viewed me with a distasteful curl in their lip.

"You ready?" Belladonna asked. I nodded silently, walking up with them. I have talent. People may not see it as a talent, but it truly is. It's a gift. One I must put to good use.

-0-

"Shit!"

I could see my sisters from here. Judara, who'd I have expected to burst into tears, was shocked silent. Quorra embraced her in a hug, watching me…almost with a glare in her features. Betrayal would be a better feature to explain.

Xavier…oh. This kid. Everyone knows Xavier.

He climbed the stage, face eased into a cringe. "No one ever had much nice to say. I think they never liked you anyway…" he sang openly, some verse from a song. He could have made it up for all I know.

I waved quietly to him and he tilted his head skeptically. "Skyeren."

"Drascal," I whispered back.

The escort raised his eyebrows at Xavier curiously. "So to display the abilities…"

Waving away the machine, he took one glance at me and smiled. In seconds, the features of his face changed slightly. His nose sharpened, eyes became gray and I realized his face looked just like mine. So that's how he manages to do such good impressions. I should have realized that.

"Why, hello, Mister," he said. The escort shuddered at Xavier and the guy instantly switched to match the man's grossed out look. He obviously found matching the strange shadings and discombobulated features awkward and this new formed face burned red from the effort.

"Yuck, tributes," he said. The ground chuckled at this and Xavier slipped back to his own self grinning. He strode up to me and waved wildly, even though I could blatantly see him.

He's always so loud and sort of rude, but you can't help but like the guy.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," he winked, although, the corner of his mouth curved downwards nervously. He was nervous.

I smiled at him up until they walked us in. Because that's when I realized it. For me to win, he'll have to die.

Well, all I could truly say; let the Games begin.

**Finished! Hooray!**

**Voting for favorite tribute is up now! Bottom two are most likely to be bloodbathed, unless I have plans for them. Eh, polls are mainly for me to know who your favorite tribute is, meaning to feed my own curiosity. You have eight choices so get voting! **

**Not sure when I'd get the next chapter up so stay tuned!**


	15. Meet the Tributes: You Little Bitch

**Please, have mercy on me. I beg of you. I think I may start an update schedule on my profile. But, seriously, please, I'm sorry, do not feast on my soul. *Hides in corner***

Drake's wide eyed gaze always managed to creep out all young girls in the room. Me, I'm an exception. People don't think of me as a young girl. They don't think of me as a girl plainly.

The new intern cleared her throat awkwardly as Drake stared off in thought. He didn't realize his eyes were set upon her and the situation did look quite awkward from my view point. The quirky girl's corkscrew curls bounced as the elevator stopped on our floor, and she fiddled with her horn rimmed glasses to keep busy.

"Hey, creeper," I said to Drake. His gaze flickered to me, frowning in annoyance. This is one thing I hate about this year. He isn't an intern any more so he thinks he's some up-and-coming hotshot. I liked him better when he had absolutely zero self-confidence and played suck-up. Let's hope this new one doesn't follow in his workings. I need _someone_ to get me my hot chocolate. "Stop scaring the intern."

The girl, what was her name, Emily…Amber…Ember…wait, that was it, Ember. Any who, she nervously glanced up to me, unsure of how to respond. Before Drake could become annoyed, I stepped onto the floor, Ember trailing behind me. Her shoes clicked against the tile floor and dress rustled as she moved. She's younger than usual. Not sure if I like that.

We traveled through the lobby area, cut through the cubicles, and to my office that involved more hallway walking and a cool voice analyzer thing. I would have gone for the hand scanner, but that's just me. The journey left me feeling pissed and already tired. You get an at least decent looking intern; everyone has to be checking out her a-

"Gamemaker?" she said tentatively. The paperwork in her arms reached up to her nose and she peeked up over the stack to see me. I matched her quizzical expression with a raised eyebrow. Ember wasn't as bad as Drake, although, they need to give me one of them one of these years that aren't sucky.

"Intern?" I pressed back. Her eyebrows wrinkled together at my tone, her mouth curving down. We stopped before my office. This, my dear friend, is where all the action happens.

"Just, uh," she shook her head, muttering, "nevermind." I shrugged and turned back to the metal door. Only a passcode away until I allow Ember into my chamber. This made me hesitate.

"You want to be a Gamemaker, right Ember?" The girl's eyes twinkled with a special light.

"More than anything." She instantly clamped her mouth shut on how rushed the response was, sheepishly frowning down at the paperwork since she couldn't see her feet.

I chuckled, glancing behind us. "Don't let any of these asshats hear you say that. They'll start with pretty words and before you know it, you're waking up feeling very itchy in spots that shouldn't be named aloud to make you think you're getting somewhere."

Ember gaped at me, appalled. "That is disgusting!" Another humored laugh slipped out with some force. I cringed as her high-pitched voice slid up into an even higher octave. Without much thought, I typed in the numeral code (I'd tell you it…but I won't). The intern peered in as the electronic door slid open. She instantly stiffened as we entered the cold room. A shiver shuttered through her.

I pointed over to a clear section of desk and she dropped the paperwork down onto it. "Did I say you could put it down?" I asked.

Ember went to grab the stack up again but I rolled my eyes, waving her off. She awkwardly stepped away and I sank low into my chain. To add extra emphasis, I spun in the chair in a full revolution, and then wiggled up to my screens.

"So…"

I wonder is Ember could detect the smirk on my face, despite my back facing her way. "Head Gamemakers are awfully secretive and do not enjoy interns butting into their personal business. But, as intern, you have one of the most important tasks in running these Games, which could mean the difference of its success or failure."

One of the computer screens was not turned on, and in the slight reflection of the glossy black I saw her eyes glisten eagerly.

"What is it?" she asked, not standing my dramatic pause. My smirk broadened as I swiveled around to face her.

"Get my hot chocolate. You can start that job now."

Ember's face instantly crumbled and she clenched her teeth down hard. "Of course." I gripped the arm of my chair. She thought she could get away with that tone with me? Wow, let's hope she doesn't pull another bitch mood like that. I'm a Capitol Gamemaker; of course I'll abuse my power over such petty issues.

She exited through the sliding doors but I forced the metal door to close, merely twitch my index finger. The end of her frilled dress caught in the thin seam between frame and slab of metal. She grunted to free it and the muscles in my face ached as I heard the thin fabric tear apart. The squeal of horror doubled me over. I always win.

Cranking up the volume toggle, I allow the recaps to filter in as background noise as I flicked through the stack. Every file, from one to thirteen, of our tributes. As soon as they're reaped, we have our people tracking their last twenty four hours. It's fun to know dirty little secrets, and even more fun exploiting them.

There have been some interesting ones in the past. Thirteen's pair were quite interesting, some of my favorites, and the guy from Seven. A teen dad _and_ gay? Don't ask how we know. That was one of those things that weren't discovered until later. The kid hid it pretty well. I hide it pretty well myself. Um, whoa, what? I said nothing. Nothing at all.

Where was my rant at? Oh, yes, Sixteenth Games. I'm hoping for a better, saner, non-panda Victor this year. Yes, ha, ha, aw, it's a panda. But what heart wrenching effect do you get from that? He's too out there. He killed one tribute, and it was more an act of vengeance. Those Victors that end up in psych wards as the latest scandal.

So, who will it be? There's the Careers…oh, young one. Twelve years old? She definitely does not know what the hell she'd gotten herself into. Alice Lynn Wonderland…no comment on that name…

I skimmed through the files. The boy from Two is on the smaller side…oh, oh, I that's a dirty little family secret he's got there. I love my secrets. Bastard children are fun too. The girl is typical Career, along with the Fours. The thin-edged Six paperwork sliced a shallow cut into my skin as I fingered the side. Unknown abilities are bad. Trust me, they end up killing everyone or themselves, or shoot fire from their ass…just no, they're bad. Her partner, too nice. Maybe his mutation will pull him through.

My attention started drifting off into my own thoughts. Seven, hippie and very non-hippie person, Eight, not recollecting too much, Nine, cancer kid, Ten, chubby kid and…not another one. I leaned in as I read his file. He's like a crazed yogurt shooting cross between a Hunter Faye and Aries Prospero.

I glanced up at the screen. Blinked once. Looked down at my files again. Blinked again.

Instantly, I tugged out Nine's folder. The boy, typical teenage-heartthrob, shaggy brown hair. Cancer kid with hair? He wouldn't be able to afford chemo, though, so he probably could have hair…wait a second….

You sneaky little bitch.

This obviously wasn't "Alix". Alix was back in District Nine dying of a brain tumor or something. This kid who is left behind just so happens to be his twin? No. This replacement is a shape shifter. Alix isn't a shape shifter. Alix has no twin. For all I know, they're not even related.

My eyes snapped up to the screen. They were already at District Twelve, with the ghost chick. I'd have been more worried about her if it wasn't for "Alix". I would have laughed harder at the fact there are two people in that body as an alternative to your typical one.

Instead of my usual blow-a-fuse-over-being-undermined-by-some-District-kid, I interlaced my fingers. It's not like it could have been your typical volunteer. "Each of the Twelve (now Thirteen) surrounding districts shall offer up one boy and one girl between twelve and eighteen years of age to compete in the Hunger Games (now Mutant Games)."

I chuckled. That sneaky little bitch…at least your death won't be forgettable.

**Meet the Tributes**

**District One**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland **_(12) _would like to know, is that one lump or two? I'd want to spend a day with Ms. Wonderland and her fairy tale creatures. She may be the youngest tribute here but that doesn't mean she plays nice. Her light-hearted dreams can become your worst nightmare.

**Balthizar Demarkos **_(18)_… Whoa, he gets his own bio area? Damn, there's so much to say. I mean, you can go on and on about yourself, although, what would get the people interested. His quick wit and curiosity? Well, winning isn't exactly on the schedule, more to use the Games as a learning experience. Wait, it may be important to mention his four arms and horns. But…nah, why'd you want to know that? But seriously, who doesn't want four arms? Any way….

**District Two**

Don't mess with the girl who will most likely fry your ass with that fire-breath of hers. **Foe Sterling **_(16) _is used to living in her sister's shadow, but she is set upon proving herself to her family or die trying. She's going for the first of those. Bluntly honest and on the bitchy side, she will definitely not be one to overlook.

**Shale Newhouse **_(15) _is your typical black sheep of the family. Victory means a better life, not for his stuffy father and older brothers, but his two closest friends. Quick for laughs and just as quick for fists, who knows what to expect from this stone skinned youth?

**District Three**

**Neve Hadron **_(16), _sharp, straight to the point, her tendencies to blow things up got her reaped for this year. Could she use her wit to stay alive?

…hee hee, he's a cat. Oh, uh, sorry, **Leon Cabler **_(17) _may not seem kind at first meeting but underneath that is a rather determined and loyal being underneath. With the typical intelligence of any Three tribute, he may not like to, but he isn't going down without a fight.

**District Four**

**Bree Maysee **_(17), _when not forcibly making you do her bidding, usually just stands by and throws insulting comments at you. Extremely cocky, she'll do what it takes to win.

**Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine **_(18)_ certainly has a way with words. He's strong, trustworthy, and polite; when he wants to be. Killing everyone in these Games will be easy.

**District Five**

**Brandy Harris **_(14) _is sort of, kind of, maybe…a little bit of a bitch. Depends on how you look at it. She'll easily throw a sarcastic, snarky comment at you, or mess with your head by pretending to be your friend or boyfriend.

**Zander De La Fuente **_(17) _will do anything for his ragtag family of mutants. Like volunteering for the Mutant Games. He can adapt to any situation, at least, physically, and not modest in the least. Punny and witty, he'll be leaving us with some funny adventures, especially with a mentor like **Aries**.

**District Six**

"Hello, why am I here? I shouldn't be shoved into a biography page with twenty-five other tributes that people are most likely not going to read and are pissed off because you haven't updated in a while." *Sighs* That is **Lauryn Rivera **_(13) _who seriously needs to watch herself is she expects to survive. Everyone is here for a reason, here in the Mutant Games.

**Cameron Wynn **_(15) _can bend the elements, another ability like any normal mutant. Other than that, he's an average guy, relatively kind and thoughtful. He promised his girlfriend he'd do what he could to make it home.

**District Seven**

**Silvia Arbres **_(17) _is rather thoughtful. If anything, _too_ thoughtful. Hey, she likes to take her time. The girl loves her trees, but will they be of use in this year's arena?

**Cede Demeter **_(17) _is, at times, impulsive, bossy, prideful. But, on the off-chance you get to know him…he's still that way. To those he loves, he's kind and thoughtful. Cede also has a knack for making things grow and shrink.

**District Eight**

**Heather Aurum **_(15) _at one point or another has known what it's like to wake a walk in your shoes. Obsessive and clingy, peppy and girlish, she's definitely not normal.

**Brodric "Bro" Loveless **_(15) _is quite the conman. On the outside, he's relaxed and undoubting. On the inside, he's the complete opposite. Bro seriously can't believe what comes out of his mouth half the time. Being a conman, though, it helps that he can make anything bulletproof-or not bulletproof-with a mere ping or pong.

**District Nine**

**Poise Adriona **_(13) _knows she's one of the youngest tributes in the Games. This is fueling even more so to make it home at all costs. Lithe and light on her feet, she's not sure if she's ready for what these Games have in store for her. However, she knows she has to be.

**Alix Estelle **_(14) _isn't Alix Estelle. Who would risk everything to protect the cancer ridden boy? And why go through such a trouble of sneaking around when you can just as simply volunteer? And that's where the secret lies.

**District Ten**

Sweet and dreamy, **Annabelle Hallestar **_(13)_ is known to accidentally blow stuff up with her little balls of light. Overall she's gentle and indifferent. Will this end up being her downfall?

**Hydran Ash **_(14)_ is as ADD as Aries and as much as an adrenaline-junky as Hunter of last year's Games. He realizes, though, that the participation in the Mutant Games means certain death. Hey, at least he can summon yogurt from some yogurt dimension. That's pretty cool. This guy definitely won't go hungry.

**District Eleven**

**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord **_(16)_ tends to spread herself to thin. The Games, at the calling of her name, are now yet another project on her never ending list of things to do. Will she finally be accepted if she survives?

**Lupe Ismene **_(16) _is a showman by design, and is known to go over the top. He can figure out people well, like a puzzle, and you know some shits going down when that trademark Evil Smirk crosses his face.

**District Twelve**

**Avara Zenia **_(17), _a lonely girl who is never alone. The outdoors isn't her favorite of places and the Games will just be a horrible experience. What situations, with those nagging little voices in her head, could she manage to get into?

**Robin Garven **_(16) _is your average Twelve user of flames and normal guy you probably see mumbling down the path as you go about your day on a typical day. Of course, there's his twin brother **Damion Garven **who occupies the same body. Whose body is it? Not sure. Damion is just too lazy to take over the body.

**District Thirteen**

**Chelsey Skyeren **_(15) _volunteered, despite her brother's dry-toned warnings, to prove herself as a Mutant in the Games. Determined, shy and gentle, but also a little mischievous, she has a habit of disappearing at the oddest of moments.

**Xavier Drascal **_(15)… _His name is Xavier! Xavier! X-X-X-X…that's a fucking mouthful to sing. Damn you, Yo Gabba Gabba! Well, this one does like to break out and song quite often when the time is right. A bit perverted and often joking, he does pretty good impressions of mimicking people.

**Done…finally…well, go easy on me. Next chapter, taking place on train rides.**

**And the poll business; There's a tribute in the lead with 8 votes, and a stiff five way tie for second with 6 each. Not saying who.**


	16. Train Rides: Two Mommies

**Um…damn, I have no witty banter. Wait no, change in the poll; the tribute in the lead is still in the lead, but with a definite second place and third place now. Obviously, I am not telling you who these tributes are…**

_**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District 1**_

The cold glass fogged up around my face as I pressed my face to it. Trees and forests raced by in mere blinks of an eye and it was all so…magical. This super-fast train bringing us to a magical land with big bright lights? Luna, no, she is far too shy to enjoy all this. It's awfully noble to volunteer, and it's Luna, I had to. Rabbit, he may be annoyed about it, but really, it was going to be fun.

Beside me, the funny looking goat boy squished his face into the window like me. Although, he obviously had some more difficulty, his large, curled horns constantly clicking into it. His voice buzzed loudly, and I had sort of started drifting when he started using _really_ big words I did not understood. I realized he had asked me some sort of question and his unblinking brown eyes framed by curled dark lashes. I swear those eyes were so pale they sometimes looked _gold_. He had a strangely intricate face, and although extremely handsome, he didn't have quite that look that would be Prince Charming handsome.

"Do you know any nice stories?" I asked. His name is as long and confusing as the rest of his words. He swiped away greasy dark hair from his face. Balthy, I think he said to call him. The tips were singed from that big explosion he had caused at the reaping and could never simply stay out of his eyes.

"Plenty," he grinned. He plopped down onto his bottom. I shuffled on my knees and leaned back, instead of sitting up to gaze out the window. The couches were so cozy, like a fluffy cloud! Rabbit paced nervously about, constantly checking a pocket watch from his pocket. Well, duh, where else would it be placed?

"How do you have those big horns on your head?" I asked. Balthy cocked his head curiously. His upper arms were crossed over his chest, the other set twiddling their thumbs. He must be really good at giving high fives.

"I believed you requested to hear a story," he stated. I shook my head, reaching up and poking the odd growths atop of his head. They were really real!

"Now I want to hear about these horns," I said. "Pwease?" I smiled, batting my eyelashes at him. It tended to get people talking but Balthy appeared ready to speak either way.

"See, as unicellular organisms, we first developed from two cells called an egg and sperm cell, when the sperm fertilized the egg. This cell gradually begins to divide, copying information of the previous cell-"

"Yawn!" I yelled. The escort shot a distasteful look towards me as I yelled this. I widened my eyes innocently and her features softened. Rabbit glared at her for a moment, then continued hopping and muttering beneath his bunny breath. Balthy frowned at the interruption. Well, he was boring me. "What did your Mommy say about you having horns?"

"The one who had me? Oh, she's constantly mentioning it in one of those compassionate, teasing manners, complaining how difficult it is to birth a child with horns."

"What did your Daddy think?" I asked. I shifted onto my bottom, swinging my legs over the side of the couch. Balthy was eighteen, more than I can count on both hands. Wait, counting to twelve requires more than two hands too…but whoa! Any who, his age and overall height required me to gaze up at him. He wasn't _that_ tall, not as tall as my brother Mick, but everyone seems to be taller than me.

"I don't have a Father."

My jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh, you don't have a Daddy? That's like beginning of Cinderella terrible! Do you have a step daddy? Is he mean? Is your Mommy sad about it?"

The side of Balthy's mouth twisted up in a smile. "Well, actually, there's Julia, who gave birth to me. She's a silversmith, militaristic, stern, always nagging at me but loving. Then there's Xiaomei. She won one of the earliest Mutant Games. She's the fun mom."

I couldn't quite comprehend what he was saying. "So…YOU HAVE TWO MOMMIES!"

Balthy wagged his scruffy head in a nod. "Well, eh, yup. I'm not sure what happened-"

"Did you hear that, lady?" I yelled to the escort. "He has _two_ Mommies. That's like double the tea parties, and love, and baked cookies and pretty dresses being made at home!" I skipped over to her, my dress fluttering about my body. She smiled awkwardly at me, a snarl in her lip. Ah, why is she being all icky faced about it?

Balthy pressed his lips together. What's with the icky face from him too?

I prodded the escort's face, demanding she respond. "What do you think about that?"

"Oh, that's just lovely," she said. As I turned to go sit back on the couch near the window (since there were _so_ many couches here, I had to be specific), I heard the lady mutter, "Lovely I get the deal with the product of two fucking dykes." Hm. I have no idea what that word means, but that does not sound like a nice word. Balthy was captivated by the television on right now, and didn't seem to hear it.

Suddenly, the escort screamed. We all twirled around to see three grumpy bears, all varying in specific sizes, roaring like this close in her face! She stood up and ran so fast. I giggled as the bears chased her out. Bad words are not nice, she should know.

Balthy watched her, a weird, unreadable expression on his face.

I skipped onto the couch, the one near the TV, and tuned in to the recaps. Eek, look, I'm on TV! Mommy and Daddy and Mick and Tori and Tara could be watching this at home right now! All the other tributes seem so interesting.

This will definitely be a fun next couple of weeks.

_**Brandy Harris**_

I woke up after my nap awfully confused; why don't I feel hungry? Why is there actually decent lighting in the room? Why don't I feel itchy in the current clothes I wear? Why do I feel like I'm going to walk into the next room to find a fluffy panda?

Oh yes, this is why; I was reaped for the Mutant Games. Why aren't I lucky?

Still, in my quarters…hell, that's weird to think. My room at home is only slightly bigger than the closet on this train. Now I have an entire living quarters to myself? Dammit, I have to stop these rhetorical questions because I'm seriously annoying myself….

Tugging on this pretty comfortable sweatshirt, I strode into the open living room area, scratching my head. The smell of food made my mouth water. It could have been dog crap for all I care, it smelled amazing.

Zander struggled to successfully drop a strand of spaghetti in his mouth, not used to eating a food like that. I shook my head, loading my plate up with all I good scoop up. It must have been late in the evening, and we'd be arriving in the Capitol in the morning. That was such hype up for now that I'm going to forget about that aspect and enjoy the less dull, less flashy and bloody situation of our train ride.

Our mentor's head dipped forward into his soup. Servants were struggling to keep him from toppling over all the contents of the table over and I was seriously debating if this panda dude was still even alive…

Suddenly, his mammoth head shot up. It knocked one of the servant people onto their ass, making me laugh off my own. Zander offered a hand to the person but the waved him away, scowling at Aries. Although, I couldn't help but notice how their eyes remained on the attractive boy a little longer than was comfortable. Our escort gritted his teeth. Again, the only reason the strange looking man is doing the lame job of leading around dead kids is to fuck pretty young girls…that and his manager can't get him out of his contract…

Aries roared us a few sentences, laughing bearishly at his own joke. Zander, for some reason, couldn't help but laugh along.

"Ha, ha," I stated stiffly, long pauses between the words. Mr. Escort Dude shifted awkwardly away from Aries as he licked his plate of mac and cheese clean. Bits of the noodles stuck to his fur, made of that thick sort of cheese that only the Capitol could produce.

"We have no idea what you're saying, freak," the escort muttered. Aries growled at the man, who shifted over even more, enough to topple right from his chair.

Aries barked with laughter. "Puts."

I leaned over, speaking to the man in a low voice. "Your hair is purple," I commented. I smirked as his odd green eyes widened as I morphed into him. "And you're calling _him_ the freak?"

The man instantly began cursing beneath his breath, hopped to his feet, and marched out the door of the room to some other compartment. He already was barking at a person on the other end.

"What a phony," Zander quipped. Aries cackled in a humanish-bearish voice, pounding the table with a massive clawed paw. I dropped my head into my hands as they laughed. Stop the puns…stop…

"Aries," I said. I nearly laughed at how professional I attempted to be, especially while talking to a panda. "What's your advice going forward?"

He burped, looking to me. Zander's charming smile calmed. "Yeah, because, really, what's going to happen?"

Aries paused in thought. "Well, first, at the Recreation Center, the stylists are going to strip to down of both clothing and pride." What? My eyes flashed anxiously to Zander. He didn't seem fazed in the least. Stripped? As in naked? What the-?

"From there, there'll be training, and really boring people talking, more training, more talking-oh! I have a very vital piece of advice that I must say now. It could. Save. Your. Life."

I tried to force the other piece of information to the back of my mind, leaning forward to catch this 'vital piece of advice.'

Aries paused dramatically. "I'm not sure what I was going to say, but I have a really bad itch on my back I can't reach. Can someone scratch it for me please?"

I wrinkled my nose, grunting in disgust. So it seems I'm going in this alone. Fine. I can figure out an alliance…somehow. Alliances are usually the best way to survive. It's how Aries made it. That and some freaky voodoo panda shit.

Zander, not really thinking about it, stood and scratched the panda's back. I rolled my eyes, climbing to my feet. I loaded up on enough food yesterday. Just get to the Capitol already and get this all over with. I'll start planning when we get there.

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

Through the thin walls of the train, when everything became still and quiet, I could hear the voice of my district partner. Not every word was clear, only a few that stuck out like _twin, _and _Games_, and _death._ I am all too familiar with the word death. It used to send cold shivers down my spine, but it's so basic nowadays, a common conversational topic.

_We're fucked. _I heard that too.

The voices had calmed some when I left the district. It's odd, not having the constant chatter in my head. Since I left the place where most of the ghosts died, I guess they stayed in their final resting place.

In here, in this room, it was so calm. I enjoyed it, considering the lights and attention to surround me tomorrow when we arrived. The mere thought of it made me short of breath and I laid a pillow on my knees tucked into my chest, burying my head into the immaculate fabric and breathing in its fresh scent for a few moments.

In the light casted by the nightlight I had requested, a boy seemed to make himself apparent in the space. His appearance, although sudden, didn't surprise me in the least. He blinked at me, his outline wispy and hard to make out.

"Who are you?" I asked softly. He grimaced at me, rising from the comfy chair he was seated in. He had an essence of an aged spirit but had to only be in his early teens on the exterior. His clothes were black, making him lost into the background, but his pale skin wavered unavoidable in the air. I've never seen this ghost before.

"I'm not supposed to talk," he said. His voice was sincere, also unfamiliar, and he glanced at an invisible force behind his shoulder. "The boss man doesn't want me talking to the tributes."

I couldn't even begin to guess who the 'boss man' was.

"You're a ghost. Did you die here?" I asked. The boy shook his head, but paused and pursed his lips.

"Not exactly here but I was a tribute. I slept in the other room though." He wavered again, frowning. "And the ghost thing isn't exactly true. I'm dead, but not exactly a ghost."

"Ah," I said. That didn't make sense, at all. He seemed familiar somehow. "How can you haunt this area if you didn't die here?"

The boy raised up a dark eyebrow. "I told you, I'm not a true ghost. More like…an apprentice." The room, despite the central air conditioning to warm or cool us to preferred temperatures, became cold. The boy sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Hold on," he said, but not to me. The boy attempted to reach out towards me but he recoiled, unable to do so. His hand had begun to vanish but it illuminated brighter as he backed into the moonlight. "I just wanted to wish you good luck, Avara. I wanted to mention some other things but since a certain someone can't be patient of five seconds," his voice elevated in volume. He allowed the sentence to drop, breathing out slowly.

I blinked. He knows my name. "Why?"

He pursed his lips again. He was already beginning to disappear. "Our talents lie on familiar paths." Talents? Since when was speaking to dead people a talent?

"None of this makes sense," I whispered, shaking my head. Was this even real? It felt real, but could it simply be a dream.

"When does life ever make sense?" he grimaced. His figure faded completely, but his voice spoke in my mind. "Good luck, Avara. There are spirits out there who mean no harm, but others that forget that they have lived their time."

Seconds later, my eyes grew heavy, and my head fell back asleep.


	17. Chariots: Nice White Van

"**Pick a number between one and thirteen."**

"**Thirteen."**

**Alright, doing a POV of someone from Thirteen.**

_**Xavier Drascal, District 13**_

"But I like my clothes on," I said. The stylist kneaded temples with her fingertips. She's done it so many times and with enough force to make a small red opening in her skin.

"Xavier, let me make this clear; if you stop arguing, this will go a lot faster."

"But why would I want to make things go faster? That means getting to my certain death sooner. See, I don't know about you, since Capitol people may not have a heart, but us hillbillies in the Districts need one to stay alive. So if it stops by say, slicing a sword through it, we just sort of keel over and go bleh, gag, eh, I see the light! Oh dear god, grandmother, is that you?"

Loretta, the stylist, opened and closed her mouth several times, the bright yellow lips smacking cumbersomely. They were hard to avoid, two large blimps on her face that looked like they could crush a small village if they wanted to of island locals. She spun on her heel, quite a feat with how thin they were, and marched out the room.

Before I could sigh in relief at retaining all prude thoughts of my body, the woman of odd colors and shapes marched back in. I swear it's like a crayon factory threw up her. Behind her were her three pretty butch assistants. I was still debating on their gender orientation when I realized the scissors in their hands and muscles tensing up, prepared to pounce.

"Do you at least have candy and a nice white van?" I gulped.

_**Chelsea Skyeren, District Thirteen**_

Terricia, my stylist, adjusted the final black curl by my face. She smiled quirkily at me, dimples appearing in her blush red cheeks. The dress was made of a graphite fabric. The gray matched my eyes, yellows and blacks done up on my accessories and makeup to add splotches of color.

"Yellow and black?" I asked when she first showed me.

"The radioactive symbol, honey," she giggled. Terricia fastened a circular clip of this design in my hair. The last few hours in the Remake Center were okay. All the prodding and picking admittedly hurt but the after effect was amazing.

I'm sure Xavier didn't think the same thing.

Even through these thick walls, I could hear his voice shouting, "Back, creepers, back! Don't make me use this!"

This was followed by a shout of "Xavier, put down the hair dryer!" and more shouting and sounds of items breaking.

Terricia kindly excused herself, leaving the other three stylists to pick and prod some more. They gossiped about various Capitol pop culture topics, most of which I couldn't quite understand. Some stood out in my mind, long conversations with Belladonna as we walked to class or when I stayed over her apartment for the night.

"Did you hear about the new intern?" one of the woman, a Barbie look-alike, down to the glossy skin and drawn on eyebrows, said. The others nodded their heads.

"I know her, gosh, she's a spit fire. Certain to send Head Gamemaker PJ a run for her money."

"She's Darlene's daughter, don't you know?" the oldest sounding one said. She had that old sort of voice you hear in your grandmother, but she didn't look a day over thirty. To think about it, she didn't look a day over any year on planet Earth. The other two went into giddy toned, gaudy flourishes about this. I liked the attention, but made me blush a little as they fawned over me. This is all meant to distract me from my main battle, and that was proving my worth as a mutant in the Games. I reminded myself by flashing away for a moment and reappearing. The women instantly screeched, flinching back in surprise.

"Oh, sunshine, don't do that!" the old-sounding young-looking one said, shooting me a disapproving look. "You scared the bajeebers out of us! Save it for the chariots." They fell into their conversation again.

Prove yourself, I thought. Prove Castro wrong. Win the Games.

Minutes later, I was lead into another area. The gray dress rose above my knee, but trailed behind me along the ground. Xavier was dragged horror movie style over to my side and forced onto his feet. I'm not necessarily a non-touchy feely person but I cringed as the boy wrapped his clammy hands around my bare shoulders. He ducked down, turning me into his human shield.

"I'm scarred," he whispered. "The mean man-ladies touched me in no-no places. They didn't even have candy." His stylist, Loretta, stomped out on her thin six-inch heels. Terricia's doughy hands tried to comfort her but the woman swatted her aside.

"I prefer the trannies from last year more and more now. At least they were easy on the eyes."

I remember those two. The guy…the one who was born a guy…by what I heard, he was a complete asshat. We have no idea how he died and there have been as many speculations as there are rumors about him. He and his sister were always explained to be complete opposites, all the way through death; Fiona, going up, and the guy…well, going below even District Thirteen.

"Okay, dearies, onto the chariots!" Terricia called. I could see a pale girl and a boy mumbling to himself up ahead in the next chariot as we were lead to this area. I patted the gray horses, curiously gazing at our chariot. How had I forgotten the cage?

Xavier frowned, pausing before the little steps to climb in. "Why is their cage stuff around the chariot?"

Loretta pursed her lips, amused. "To make sure the mutts don't cause any mayhem." Terricia frowned at the animosity, her sweet vendetta fading and a solid glare creasing her face. She flashed a smile at us and I realized how forced it looked.

"Hop aboard, dearies. It's nothing to worry about." I glanced to Xavier who offered me a hand. Taking it, he helped me aboard and we slid into the seats. They were quite comfortable. The cage bothered me, for some reason. I understand there are some real psychos some years-this point is driven in deeper as Xavier began to trail his fingernails over the heavy chained fencing around us and rattle a beat in which he hummed to-but, being in a district that was forced to live in confined spaces, it simply made me tense. Xavier glanced at me, his blue eyes blinking wide eyed. His freckles faded and his face morphed to Loretta's, crossing his multicolor star-pupil eyes, and mimicking her constant complaints. The mutant fact does bother me too. I am still turned away and judged, undermined for me being me. When will I be released and be free?

_**Foe Sterling, District 2**_

The crowds erupted immediately as we trotted into sight, whooping and clapping. Yet another of Shale's ubiquitous grins lit up his face and he waved to them all. He transformed into his rocky self and Capitolites ooh-ed in adoration. After a few seconds, he shifted back into his normal, short, compact self.

"Dammit," Shale muttered, face instantly darkening. A moment later, he was back to rocky-self, waving again.

I frowned, pouting my lips to the side. Feeling my lip curl up, I lifted my head up and blew out a warm breath. Fire shot up through the fencing of the little cage surrounding us. I was hoping the metal would melt away, but these Gamemaker folk truly have seen it all. The flames simply flew through, the cage untouched.

Shale jerked over in surprise from the sudden heating. His stony features moved up into a grin and he laugh heartily. This guy had some odd mood swings. When we boarded the train, the first thing he did was march to his room and slam the door shut. I gazed at our mentor and escort curiously as objects began shattering and yelling occurred. About twenty minutes later, he walked out into the living area and asked what was for lunch. His smile was chill and at ease and unfazed.

Strange little bastard, that one.

My eyes swept about the City Circle, taking in the sights of the competition. I'm not sure who from District One appears odder; the little girl or the burly dude with four arms. That was a strange pairing. District Three was nothing special…my eyes couldn't pull themselves away from Four as their wispy white horses trotted in.

The guy demanded attention in some way, a charming smile lighting up his face. The crowd became louder and more boisterous in volume. The tribute had no problems in gaining attention and keeping it went off without a hitch either. He was so good-looking, so strong…

I grabbed the cage and slammed my head into it as these thoughts came to mind. The pain subsided with these ideas and I snorted in disgust. How could I so easily start thinking that? I'm not exactly here to be on some great adventure and make friends. I'm here to prove I'm not just the freaky younger sister of Sprite Sterling, and this leads to me being here to kick some ass.

Taking pity on my slightly drooling district partner, I poked the boy's cheek. When this got no reaction, I resorted to jabbing his eye. He instantly yapped in pain, glaring. His reddening eye watered, the look forcefully thrust upon me.

"You're welcome," I stated. He glared harder and I turned my attention away. District Five was trotting in and I must say, not as reminiscent as last years'. That kid one, but I seriously wanted the panda to win. It probably had more sense and sanity than the Aries guy. I still can't believe he took an arrow for that stupid District Ten bitch. I can't believe I was actually rooting for the panda.

The sleek suit fitting well to my muscled figure shone in the twinkling lights. My eyes scanned the crowd and reviewed the tributes. This shouldn't be too hard. Yeah, there are the Careers. But One doesn't seem to threatening, Shale is small, and Four…that's where the trouble will lay. However, they gave off the aura of being cocky as shit. There are the few strong looking ones from the week districts, and it'd be best to try to take them out when in an alliance.

I sighed. Career packs could be suicide. But they know what they're doing. You would at least think they'd know what they're doing.

I was broken from my train of thought by a wave of pink goo sloshing through the cage atop of me and my partner. It was so sudden I didn't fully react in time and my eyes burned as the yogurt landed dead in the center. I could taste the strawberry flavoring and my nose wrinkled up. I hate strawberry.

My eyes swiveled up at the proud looking boy from Ten. "Fucking bastard's going to pay for that one," I muttered.

_**Silvia Arbres, District 7**_

Cede slammed the button of the elevator, wincing as a splinter from his costume drove itself deeper into his hand. A girl who couldn't be older than thirteen or fourteen hummed silently to herself in the corner of the elevator, a boy standing beside her and trying to see how many times he'd have to snap to get her attention. I think they were from District Ten or something like that.

The doors slid closed and we ascended up. I missed the sense of air whistling by my ears as my body rose up higher in elevation.

Soon, sooner than what seemed humanly possible, the floor's current number lit up as a bright 7 and we stepped off, Cede and I. My partner scowled down at his chariot outfit and even further at the splinter that managed to shrink in his finger but still caused a great amount of discomfort. He gave up with a loud puff of air, marching angrily to his room. I must say, it was done smoothly and the way he found his room so easily was quite remarkable.

Taking my time, I walked through the place, as our escort had put it, "Place you'll call home!" I stopped and, with this thought in mind, closed my eyes to take in a deep whiff of the air. No, it wasn't like home at all. Slowly and gradually, I examined the entire floor. The dining room smelled divine even with no food in it and the furniture was both odd and lavish. I allowed my hands to run over the fabrics. How many little threads could make up that one pillow?

The only room to go overlooked was Cede's and I don't believe he'd enjoy my presence at the moment. In any moment, really.

I opened the door to my one living quarters and my eyes widened upon lying upon the bedroom. A breathtaking skyline of the Capitol lay just beyond my window, lights of cars passing by and citizens still cheering and partying in the streets. They were a patchwork of various colors, some I'm sure I never could name.

I needed to go home. I needed to be in the forests amongst my trees, at home with my parents. The Capitol is no place for me. Yet, here I was; not of my own accord, of course.

The bed was incredibly cozy as I lay down and I breathed in the freshness of the fabric. It still wasn't the same freshness of District Seven. I missed the small things, too, the dirt beneath my fingernails and feel of soil beneath my feet. All these thoughts made me long for it again. Trees in the arena would be great, even if it's just a small patch. Are cactuses trees? I'll try to figure out if they are when I'm in the mood.

I stared up at the ceiling. It'd be best to start planning alliances. Sometimes, even the trees aren't going to be able to save me. It's not like we talk to each other or something stupid, they're just really comforting to have around. When I need to think things through, I wander through the forest, maybe become a willow or something of the sort and just think. I once spent an entire week in the forest thinking over a boy, as petty as it seems now. I emerged believing he was worth the effort and I actually got him. About a month later, for whatever boy reasons he had, he dumped me. My decision making hasn't gotten any better since then.

I tossed in thought. I couldn't take this. I would never get any sleep. Rising to pace off my restless mind, my foot trudged against a trash can on the floor. Wait a second….

I bent down beside the fallen object and lifted it back on its bottom. This wasn't a trash can. A smile worked up into my features. It was a pot, and like most pots, it had dirt and an odd looking plant in it. I ran the specks of dirt over my hands, allowing them to slip through my fingers.

I could do this.

Changing into a comfy pajama set in my drawers, I poked my feet around the pot. Apologies mumbled from my lips as I stepped on the little plant. I willed myself to alter, and immediately my toes and legs branched out into the smallest tree I could think of and a Dwarf Willow came to mind. I relaxed in the soil.

It was enough. Until I met my home again.

**Announcements: So, as the few who follow Tears of Blood, you know that my character was bloodbathed. Ah, there's a blow to the ego. And, I may get in trouble for this, but *leans in, voice dropping* Onyx had gotten the third highest amount of votes for bloodbath, which explains why she died. For those who were confused.**

**But, since my character was bloodbathed, I got my own special one-shot for his dead on the 24tributes24authors account! Please, even if you have never read the story, check it out. Maybe you'll start skimming through ToB and find it quite enjoyable. And favorite it. And all sorts of other stuff. There will be another mass author writing this summer, so keep an eye out for it, people. **


	18. Mutant Training: Confusion

**Just realized…I've had pretty much all girl POVs for the past several chapters. Okay, I'll have all POVs this chapter. If I can slap myself hard enough to make me do it. It's just…I don't know. Most of what I'd want to guys to say would come up another time.**

**By the way; ha ha, Kazumo. I almost did but…I didn't. HA, WHAT NOW, SON? Although, there are mentions of District Six…**

_**List of Mutant Training Groups**_

_Physical Adaptations/Enhanced Abilities_- District One, Balthizar Demarkos, District Nine, Poise Adriona

_Summoning_- District One, Alice Lynn Wonderland, District Ten, Hydran Ash

_Shape-Shifting (Humanoid)_- District Five, Brandy Harris, District Nine, Alix Estelle, District Thirteen Xavier Drascal

_Shape-Shifting (Non-Humanoid)_- District Three, Leon Cabler, District Five, Zander De La Fuente, District Seven, Silvia Arbres

_Manipulation of Matter_- District Three, Neve Hadron, District Seven, Cede Demeter, District Eight, Brodric Loveless

_Elemental Control_- District Two, Foe Sterling and Shale Van Newhouse, District Six, Cameron Wynn, District Ten Annabelle Hallestar, District Twelve, Robin/Damion Garven

_Undead Related_- District Twelve, Avara Zenia

_Mental-Based Manipulation_- District Four, Bree Maysee and Santiago Aquitaine, District Eight, Heather Aurum

_Manipulation of Physical Self (Non-Shape-Shifting)_- District Eleven, Chrysanthemum Gord, District Chelsey Skyeren

_Other_- District Six, Lauryn Rivera, District Eleven, Lupe Ismene

_**Shale Van Newhouse, District 2**_

The obsessive knocking comes yet again on my door and I groan, turning over. After a moment comes yelling and before I knew it, my door fell inwards and a stifling hot gust of air bristled by my face. Foe stomped in, kicking aside the scorched debris. She stood; hip cocked off to one side, and grimaced with lips pressed together.

"Time to wake up, Pebbles," she said. I laughed dryly at the nickname, hopping to my feet and stretching my stiff muscles. Foe's ridiculously straight, near-black hair was pulled back into a firm ponytail and she was already dressed in training clothes. I glanced across the room and saw a similar outfit hanging on my closet door.

"Thanks, Morning Breath," I murmured in a low voice, still loud enough for her to clearly hear it. She snorted a puff of air from her nose. Trails of black smoke shot out and hang suspended in the air after she leaves. I'm still trying to figure that girl out. Major, self-centered Career bitch? Or bluntly honest rebel type? An unsuspecting Avox brushed by her in the hallway and stopped to gawk at what lay of my door.

I chuckled, snatching up my training gear and heading to the bathroom. The fabric is stretchy and breathable, and fits to my small frame perfectly. Just to check, I morphed into my rock form and moved around. It takes some effort, but I finally managed to go back to normal. The clothes fit the exact same way. I sighed. There have been plenty of outfits that have never quite fit the same after using my mutation.

Steel gray eyes stared at me and I met the gaze in the mirror. How couldn't I have seen it before? I always thought of myself as the black sheep of my family, the anomaly that no one talks about. But, still, I was _part_ of it. My fingers trail over my swarthy skin and track up through my dark hair. I could probably pass of as fourteen if I wanted to. I could barely pass of as fifteen, right now.

My mutation has always marked me an outcast. But I'm used to that. It's pretty fucking cool, saved my ass in plenty of situations. The outsider status has been a center of pride for me.

A hard look overtakes my eyes as my thoughts turned sour. Fumbling about, I managed to twist the handle and water trickles out the faucet. Eyes so gray, how could I have thought I was my father's son? We weren't always on good terms, but I should be thankful he treated me as well as he did. My mother…Mom…

In a fit of rage, my skin formed into the hard rock and I bring my fist into the mirror. It shatters on impact, tickling down onto the counter, into the sink, and onto the floor. I shouted out, a cry of all building up in me.

At my goodbyes at the reaping, right after Roran and Kindle wished me luck with plenty of hugs, my brothers and father walked in. They viewed me awkwardly, unsure of hour to approach the subject. My face split into a smile.

"About time I did something with my life. It won't go on forever." John and Fredrick, in their unnerving twin way, nodded in unison. Dad pursed his lips and when the Peacekeeper announced time was up, he took hold of my hand firmly, wishing me luck. I matched his strength and couldn't help but smirk at the wince on his face.

Right after them came Mom. I could have realized something was to occur when she didn't come in with Dad and my brothers. Her bottom lips wobbled and I pulled her in for a hug.

"This was my decision," actually, it was the straws' decision, "to do this. It wasn't for you, Mom. It was for me."

Her worn gaze settled on me, and for a long moment, she stared. But soon, her eyes filled up with tears and she wrapped her arms around me.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered. "I-I-I didn't know this would happen."

I opened my mouth to try to explain and comfort her more, but she continued on, hurriedly speaking, fumbling over her words. "I didn't think you'd happen. I'm so sorry, I…you're not a Newhouse, Shale."

The line wormed through me. "What?"

She blew her nose out in my shirt. "It was a onetime thing. I was so alone and your brothers were driving me crazy…I-I just needed some time to relax…"

I blinked rapidly and shoved the woman away. "Are you saying I'm some sort of…bastard?"

The sobs to follow answered that question.

Steel eyes stared at me in one of the broken shards. I breathed out and relaxed. Whatever. Life's too short to start worrying about that sort of crap. When I'm Victor, I could forget all about my mom. I'd be living it up in the Victor's Village. I grinned at this. Living it up with Kindle and Roran's uncreative mind. We wouldn't have to live so depressed and so worriedly. We'd be someone.

Obviously, I've had some training. Kindle, Roran and I trained quite often back in District Two. We knew each other's strengths, our weaknesses. We wouldn't want any of us possibly being in the same Games, which is why we drew straws, so we knew who'd be the one going for it. Going in this new atmosphere, though, it was going to take an hour or two to get used to.

Opening my door, the same nervous looking Avox blinked at me. I glanced over my shoulder, sending him a sheepish expression.

"Uh…yeah. Sorry, 'bout that."

He sighed, a broom already at hand. Shifting back into my usual self, I jogged ahead into the dining room. That breakfast smelled amazing.

_**Bree Maysee, District 4**_

I frowned at the little card in my hands and then at the guy beside me. He wasn't frowning, actually smirking good-naturedly at me. As my scowl intensified, his grin only became cheerier. It's unnerving how nice he seemed. Typical boy-next-door who'd help an old lady cross the street.

I already had Santiago pinned as one to watch out for. Kindness is possibly the most dangerous aspect in a tribute.

"Why are you in 'Mental-Based'?" I murmured. He shrugged indifferently, eyes darting around the group. A snarled curl inched up into my upper lip. Taking down these losers will be easy. We were given five minutes to separate out into the Mutant Training groups and most kids awkwardly stood amongst themselves, tugging at their clothes.

Thinking back to the reaping recaps and Opening Ceremonies, I caught sight of the other Careers. District One was a joke. A little twelve year old girl? And, yeah, the guy was tough looking. But he so stupidly blew up the machine at the reaping and I could see the glazed look overcoming an assistant he chatted to amid to; he was a nothing to worry too much about.

I stepped beside the District Two girl, who viewed the sight as critically as I did. Her partner talked to a boy from Six, laughing and patting his back. Six laughed to, but with a nervous jitter in his throat.

"Name?" I asked. The girl raised her eyebrow, not answering. "Well?"

After a moment, she replied with, "Foe. You?"

"Bree Maysee," I said grandly. "District Four." The side of Foe's mouth crooked up.

"I see that," she said. A detected a scent of acrid smoke from her breath, and wrinkled my nose at it. Right at that moment, we were ordered to go to their Training leader. I nodded to Foe.

"We'll chat during lunch."

She nodded to me, turning and walking off with her own group.

Sandy stood with our third training member. I glanced down to my card, reading off her as the girl from District Eight. Thick, lush curls fell down to just past her shoulders and looked about fifteen, sixteen.

"Santiago," I said to my district partner. He talked to the District Eight girl, er, Heather, in a general conversation. Her hazel eyes flickered to me and she waved daintily at me. Sandy gestured to the girl in a grand wave of his arms.

"Bree, this is Heather Aurum of District Eight," yes, because I didn't already know that from the card. "Heather, this is my _charming_ district partner Bree." I grunted a greeting to her, shooting a glare at Sandy's sarcasm.

"Hi," she said politely. An uneasy light gleamed in Heather's eyes and her fingers twitched as she scratched her rosy cheek. It made me smirk. She's only finally realizing the real competition around here. We were lead away and Heather edged away from me nervously as we traveled. Despite tense energy, she didn't mind the minimal gap between her and Sandy. I could see several Avoxes seated across unoccupied chairs as we entered the next room.

"You will be working on finding the limits of your mutation," a hard-edged woman explained as we sat. "And trying to move beyond them. Today, you are to focus on all mutations and working to their extent."

Santiago listened silently and Heather's eyes trailed off. She glanced beside her to me and we locked gazes for a second. In rims of her hazel eyes danced glints of orange and yellow. A smirk spread the length of my face.

Heather gripped the table and smashed her head down into it. She screamed and curls covered her face. She slammed again and a reddish tone developed in her forehead. Attendants grabbed Heather's shoulders as she went to slam herself again and managed to restrain her. Fear was written all over her face and I chortled. Sandy shot me a mixed look, unreadable of being positive or in disdain. He pinched his wrist and I smiled wider. Sadly, that's all I could manage to make him do so far. Making this Avox snap its own neck would be easy as blinking. Why, confused reader, it's my mutation if you don't remember, to make people do whatever the hell I want.

It's not like making Sandy slap himself is impossible. It's just harder. Harder than controlling some District Eight chick and forcing her to bash her own head into a metal table.

Pained tears streamed down Heather's face and she flushed red on the stupidity of the action. These Games were fun already.

_**Lupe Ismene, District 11**_

Lauryn Rivera…yeah, name doesn't ring a bell…

"Ahem." My line of sight moved down several inches and I examined the young girl standing before me. Her brown hair fell over one shoulder and she blinked her brown eyes at me. Her fist lowered to her side from where it was positioned by her mouth.

"Rivera?" I asked. She opened her mouth to respond but I continued on. "Ismene, Lupe."

The lady who ran training went on about the glories of our talents and the uniqueness of them. I was prepared to raise a hand and shout "Silence!" to see if she would, well, silence. Knowing everyone in this place, she would, mid-sentence and gape for a few moments.

"Do you have a business card or something?" Lauryn said in a monotone.

I cocked my head. Hey, she's not bad at figuring people out either. "Why don't you check your back pocket?"

We were in the midst of the gymnasium. It wasn't as large as the other sectioned off areas, enough for us to work with our mutations. It proved to be rather hard, as I observed no possible props to practice with. Sounds of grunts and groans echoed up through the curtaining and I knew some of the other tributes were overworking themselves.

Lauryn scrunched her eyebrows up skeptically. "Why?"

"Why not?" I said, smirking. After a moment of hesitation, she reached back, slowly, to her pocket, eyes never leaving my gaze. She frowned and I was met by a perplexed expression.

"What was supposed to happen?" she asked. I frowned myself. Well that didn't work. It takes a steady hand to make the card fall right into place. Sometimes I screw up…that's a bit of a lie, though. I never screw up. Unless she's playing stupid (which she isn't), I messed up. But that doesn't happen, mind you.

Tipping my top hat off, I gestured the open end to her. She peered in, unimpressed.

"Is a rabbit supposed to hop out or something?"

The frown on my face deepened and I looked into the hat. I even ran my fingers along the lining to check to see if there were any hiding spot, which I never have. Those are for amateurs, my friend.

"Why, Lauryn," I said, trying to retain my composure. "It seems I have left my business cards in my other magic hat."

"Yuh-huh," she said. "See, I don't care who the hell you are, buddy. I just want to go home."

"Don't we all," I smirked, taking a step backwards. "But you were reaped, _honey_, and you're part of the crew like the rest of us."

Lauryn's face tensed up, and burned red. She's faced this argument quite a few times. "I'm not a mutt. There's some sort of mistake. I'm normal."

I paced another step back and pulled out my cards to keep my hands busy. "Are you insinuating me to be abnormal?"

"I'm not exactly saying you're average," she grunted.

"So then, what talents are you unwilling to share with us? Because I think I'm as interested as you."

A blow of a whistle from the other side directed Lauryn's attention away. I thought to appear right behind where she stood now. In practice, I had done it so many times, and it only required a mere thought. But instead of behind her like I planned, my body was slammed into hers. We both crumpled, because it felt very much slow like running into your best mate at full speed like two loons, and the thirteen year old glared at me.

"What are you doing?"

I'd like to ask you the same question. I smiled, but my mind actually fluctuated in thought process. The confused looks on my audience faces can bring me such joy. Being confused myself…no. That was entirely bad. Something with this room…something with the atmosphere…it just wasn't working for me.

"Right now, I believe I am going to work out my approach for next time."

**Oooh, Lauryn. Let's hear what you guys got. **

**I didn't go into as much depth as I'd have liked to with Mutant Training…but…yeah.**


	19. Training: Awkward Alliance

"**I wish that I could fly…way up in the sky…like a bird so high…I think I just might try…"**

**This is what happens when your friend says, "Hey, listen to this!" You get cheerful songs with dark meanings stuck in your head.**

_**Damion Garven, District 12**_

Mind using a fork, Robby?

Robin frowned, pursing his lips. _Mind not calling me Robby?_

He stubbornly grabbed the eating utensil, stabbing the sausage on the plate and forcing it down. He barely chewed it but was probably overwhelmed by all the food on the table and had to eat as much as physically possible. I turned my attention to our mentor, Rufus, who spoke carefully to us. Like Robin was actually paying attention.

"It's up to you on alliances, really. I recommend thinking them out and viewing who you consider before you step towards them. You don't want to ally with someone who may have a hand with the daggers, but will easily drive it into your back while you're sleeping."

Yes, because daggers aren't quite comfortable in one's back. I snorted in disgust, an interesting action to do in one's mind, when Robin couldn't even take notice in my own witty statement.

Avara's eyes darted to the table. The girl's stance was frigid with anxiety and apprehension and she tugged at the collar of her black training shirt. I mentally cleared my throat, earning a gruff grunt from Robin. Rufus only now looked to his female tribute and, aging eyes crinkling up, patted her shoulder.

"Sorry, kid, just trying to help you out here," he said. Avara tensed at the man's hold and her blue eyes widened frighteningly wide. He recoiled and she inched over in her chair. I would too if a strange man touched me. Rufus sighed, eyes shifting to us as Robin's obnoxious chewing became nauseatingly louder.

"Are you even listening to me?" he asked. I sensed Robin freezing up, having not been paying attention to our mentor but to our already stuffed stomach, and I figured I might as well step in.

"I am," I said, sliding into the controls. Damn, this food was pretty good. I took a moment to swallow half of what was in my mouth, followed by another moment to finish the large mound. Rufus stared closer critically, carefully watching my face.

"I'm still trying to figure you out, kid," he said. I shrugged. It took Robin and me a few hours on the train to explain the whole concept of two souls in one body. I'm quite sure he believes we're simply Robin with his Jekyll personality known as yours truly. "You're Damion, right?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, sipping a glass of orange juice. I blocked Robin's complaining tone at my abrupt kicking him out and allowed the sides of my mouth to turn upwards a bit. "You can tell. I'm both more charming _and_ better looking."

_Ass._

"Yeah, your voice is deeper than the other Robin's," he said. An Avox cleared away my clean plate and I swore I heard Robin snuffling on sobs.

_But, I want another biscuit…_

Shut up, fatty. I share this body too.

_So? When was the last time we ever saw food this good._

Man, we've never seen food this good. And we'll never see it again. Don't get used to it.

"The eyes," Avara whispered. Rufus frowned at her words but I nodded in consent.

"That too." Rufus squinted back at me and his face relaxed, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening as it dawned him. Yes, another difference; whereas Robin's eyes, when he controls the body, are blue, mine are brown.

"Alright then. As I was saying," he continued, "make careful decisions. While you train and in the arena. Stay calm." His eyes withered on Avara at those last two words. Rufus never seemed to be, I don't know, soft to me. In the Games about ten, twelve-ish years ago, he completely annihilated the competition. He himself is only in his late twenties, early thirties here, but I swear he looks more like forty. Streaks of gray ran through Rufus' hair and it thinned out in the front.

Avara's eyebrows scrunched up and in her typical soft voice, mumbled, "Be right back." She stumbled off to her room, and when I heard the door snap shut, I locked my gaze onto Rufus.

"You're rather sweet to her," I commented dryly. Rufus shrugged, leaning on his hand propped on the table.

"I guess. I think…that duo from last year. I don't know. Something about them has lodged themselves into my brain. I can't help but think about all I could have done. I thought they could have won."

"They didn't, though."

It's not hard to remember them. I feel my eyes soften at the thought of little Olive Quaker. Erone, he was alright. I'm not exactly a fan of fourteen and fifteen year olds, think they need to be swept off the planet.

_The one thing we can agree on. But, you know, not like that._

Yeah. But, ah, way of life, it is my brother.

"There's something about those death types," Rufus went on with. "They're so emotional. Erone was a very emotional guy himself and now Avara. The kinds with these mutations are so fragile."

"Like life itself," I said in a low tone. And, just to be me, with a smirk in my features, "Fragile things tend to shatter." Rufus pressed his lips together. With that, I relinquished control back over to Robin.

"Hey, we need to leave," he said anxiously, rising. Rufus called for an Avox to call Avara back in but Robin was already pressing the elevator door.

_So what do you think of an alliance? _Robin asked me.

I paused. We already got each other. Although, having another person on hand to get pissed off at would be great.

_Why?_

'Cause it isn't exactly bright to try to kill you when you act like a dumbass.

_**Annabelle Hallestar, District 10**_

I jerked back in time to dodge the trap that managed to go off on itself as I set it. In the process, I've earned myself a neat cut in my finger. I suck on the blood to stem the flow and cut off the sting.

I was pretty sure I was going to die when I was reaped. I'm still pretty sure of it now. But Anan said I had to win. He's my best friend, and saying "No" would be rather morbid. But…maybe I can. Anan can't be without a sidekick. He…needed me in a way.

For now, I attempted to learn something new. Training yesterday was okay, I guess. The goal set for me was to try to control where my orbs went. The little blue lights would simply float through the air. When released, they were free to roam where they pleased. I had absolutely no control. They were beautiful, in that respect, how slowly they took, bits of light drifting through the sky. And when they landed, a complete firework of debris and blinding blue and white shattered through the steady silence.

Fireworks are awfully pretty. The capitol set some off the first night I arrived. Being in a higher floor, I could watch them from my window. There was even some interesting shapes and words and phrases that flashed across the sky like "Mutant Games 16!" and "Let the Games Begin!" and "Barbara, will you marry me?" I thought it was quite interesting how another firework came up sparkling "No" afterwards.

My fingers plodded about to collect the pieces of my failed contraption. A tallish girl nudged a broken branch towards me with her foot. I smiled up to her.

"Thank you."

She shrugged, stepping away from me. "No problem." I looked back down to collect the item but I could see the girl pause as she twisted around on her heel. A moment later, she twirled about and bent down in front of me, piling one last sharp object onto my collection and smiling at me.

"Here you go," she said. To see a smile calmed my nerves and she seemed genuinely nice.

"I'm Annabelle," I introduced myself. "I'm from District Ten."

"Brandy," she said. Her smile shrunk down to a simple grin. "District Five."

"Oh, the Aries Prospero District? Is he as fluffy as he is on TV?"

Brandy grimaced. "Yes. Even more insane." I giggled and her face slid into a smirk.

We walked to the station manager and I plopped all item back on the table. I looked around nervously to find a new station and Brandy waved her hand towards the edible plants. I grinned, glad to have company.

"You're thirteen, right?" I nodded enthusiastically, and Brandy nodded, too, in thought. "I'm fourteen, if you're wondering. What's your knack?"

I scrunched my face up. "My what?"

"Your knack," Brandy replied. "Your mutation?"

"Oh!" I squeaked. "I make least little lights. They're really pretty."

Brandy pursed her lips as she viewed the berries. I drew her hand back from an especially dark one and handed over a small desert leave I tended to gnaw on whenever I came upon a bushel back at home. "I heard some of the tributes mentioning they're quite…" Brandy trailed off, maybe an exploding sound affect and jolting her clasped apart in demonstration.

"Oh, that too," I giggled.

My stomach flipped as I looked up at the girl again. Because she wasn't the girl she had had been speaking to before but looked…looked just like me. Dusky brown skin, dark, hooded eyes, and square jawline right there.

She-me cackled and suddenly intso-presto, she was Brandy again. "There's my knack, by the way." I blinked and, finally getting it, broke into another fit of giggles.

We listened to the attendant a bit more until trailing to the shelter area, which demonstrated how to make housing in ways I would have never even thought of. A cheery girl had her own tree house built already and pranced about in and out of it. I was awed by the little forest animals trailing behind her and she ran over to a boy with FOUR ARM AND HORNS! She poked him and ran off again to another boy who I think was from Four. He narrowly missed swinging an ax at her neck when she burst in front of him and placed the shaft of the weapon down as he listened to her. He shagged her pigtailed head and she giggled, skipping off again.

"That guy seems nice," I said. Brandy pressed her lips together. "Could we go play with that girl? She seems nice too."

"Hey, you don't want to get into that group," she instructed. "Those are Careers. They aren't any good news."

"Oh," I said. "But, the girl-"

"Isn't as innocent as she seems," Brandy cut off. The girl snapped her fingers, as if an idea just popped into her head. "You know what we could do? We could form an alliance. Wouldn't that be nice?"

An excited feeling swelled up inside me. An alliance? Yes, that's perfect! People in alliances always seem to get so much farther in the Games! And that'll help me win, like Anan said to do!

"Yes!" I agreed. I threw my arms around her, hugging Brandy tight. "We'll be alliance buddies!"

"Yup," Brandy said with a voice tight. "It'll be perfect. Just perfect." The ending of that sentence ended on an odd note but I disregarded it. Brandy is nice. She wants me as an ally. We're an alliance.

_**Leon Cabler, District 3**_

Neve slid into the seat across from me, placing her tray down on the table. The Careers sat in a typical spot at the same table, chatting avidly and laughing like nothing could possibly be wrong. Most other tributes sat by themselves. There were a few groups of two but not many.

"No one is working up many alliances yet," Neve whispered. "They're still trying to figure them out." I nodded, taking a bite out of the apple. You'd think apples are simply apples and there's no possible way for them to vary in. But no, apples from the Capitol are a whole lot better than the ones sold at home. They were completely flawless of bruises and had a satisfying crunch when you bit into them.

"Do you want my tuna?" Neve said, wrinkling her nose. "I think there's an acquired taste for it."

I'm the guy who can turn into a cat, of course I'd like your tuna, and I smirked to myself. Instead of voicing this, I said an awkward, "Sure."

She slid the plate onto my tray and I poked through the contents. I took a piece of dark, grainy bread from a basket in the center and added it onto the contents before me. Neve glanced around, gnawing on her own bread.

We sat in silence from there, listening the chatter and clatter of cutlery around us. Neither of us were exactly warm and inviting, or much of conversationalists. My mind toggled with the ideas running through my head and I slowly picked away at my meal.

"Any one offer an alliance to you?" she asked. I pressed my lips together.

"The kid from Eight approached me, Bro. I said 'No'. I didn't, I don't know, like his vibe if that makes any sense."

Neve nodded. A small pale brown strand slid from where it was pinned back. It fluttered in her face, waving about as she breathed.

"Tributes tend to live longer if they have an alliance," I whispered out finally. Neve's hazel eyes flickered up. Not sure what the look meant, I continued.

"Also tend to die faster. But, you don't seem like a backstabbing type, in a literal or metaphorical sense but, uh-"

"You're suggesting we ally with each other," Neve said.

I gnawed on my lip. "Eh, yeah, exactly." I realized it was less me answering her question but proving her statement valid.

Neve blinked once then adjusted her hand to lie on the table. "Sure." She raised her hand towards me. "Allies. Until the time comes."

After a moment of hesitation, I gripped her hand. I'm not quite sure I wanted to think about the possibilities of 'Until the time comes' could be but I pushed the thought aside. "Allies."

_**Poise Adriona, District 9**_

The tributes milled about below me and I watched them perched from the climbing rope. I dangled with arms hanging free, legs wrapped tight around the rope. Teens squinted up at me and I waved back down. I could see the Gamemakers watching from their protected little area. Ensuring a dramatic and precise landing, I gripped the rope with my hands and flipped my legs down to be right-side up. I threw my weight about and once there was a steady enough swing going, I flitted to the next rope. This rope, with my momentum, brought me swinging, much like a pendulum, off to the side. Coming back now, I threw myself forward. I was hit with that exhilarating, fearful pang in the pit of my stomach as I free-falled but grabbed onto the previous rope with ease. With a few cool moves added in, I made it to the floor again. Several attendants clapped at my landing and I made an exaggerated bow towards them.

"Why, I believe I'm going to another station now," the tribute waiting to go announced, throwing his arms up and moving off to bow and arrows.

"Pretty good for a show monkey," another boy with messy dark hair and an angular, straight-edged, thin frame sneered. Despite the arrogance, he moved off to another station too. The tribute, I think he was from Eight, quickly got into an argument there and I rolled my eyes. His last name was "Loveless" or something, which was not comforting in the least.

I caught sight of Alix working to set a fire and I trailed over. He isn't exactly nice…no, that's an understatement. Alix had the social outgoingness as a leper, as our escort puts it. I'm thinking it's more like he doesn't plan to make friends but…yeah. It'd be nice if he would at least smile, like, once.

With no one else around who I honestly felt comfortable talking to, I kneeled beside him. A little spark dashed off his tools into the pile of dry leaves and they gradually began to burn.

"Yes!" Alix murmured, grinning. He glanced to me, back to his flame, then back to me as my presence processed in his mind. The smile wasn't on his face anymore. "Oh, hi, Poise."

I waved back a greeting, raising my hands up to warm them. "Nice job."

"Thanks," he said mutely.

I looked over to two of the trainers. One was the fire station's attendant.

"Nice competitors this year," he said. "Interesting bunch."

"Lots of shifters," the other commented. I walked over requesting to work. He passed over the tools and I pouted at the fact I'll be working on my own.

"Yeah," he continued on with. I settled down, still within earshot, beside Alix. His nose wrinkled at my company but I ignored the grimace. "But anyone here could be a better Victor than the panda lord. Seriously, still can't believe he won."

"Can't believe he became a panda." He spat a phlegmy wad of saliva onto the floor. Make note: don't step there. "Do you see any big competition?"

"The Careers, like usual. A lot more serious than last year, especially the D4's." The other agreed with a grunt. "What's that weird one's name? The one I mentioned to you earlier. Alice?"

Alix stiffened immediately. His head snapped around, brown hair flipping out of his eyes, and his face paled at least three shades whiter and maybe a few little brown specks appeared. This was weird, considering the usual cool, calm, unfathomable Alix.

"Alice?" he squeaked. His voice was, eh, quite prepubescent there and rather high. His outstretched arm froze and I noticed a burn along the inside of his forearm. A burn…in the form of words? Not weird at all.

"No, that's the District One girl. I think you meant the guy from Ten," the phlegm guy said. He looked about and then back to his companion. "Ah, a little booger at my station. Catch up with you later."

"No, I meant the weird one that was a girl," out of earshot, he added, "dumbass."

Alix released the nervous breath he had held in so long. The little specks faded from his face.

"What are those?" I asked, pointing to them. Alix reached up and touched his face.

"These, oh," he said. "They're nerve freckles. When I get nervous, they tend to just sort of appear."

I frowned. "Oh, wow. Why were you nervous?"

"Uh," Alix said, glancing to the station head. "There's this girl named Alice I sort of like back home. Hearing her name…you know, caught my attention. She's a mutant too. A knee jerk reaction." He stumbled to his feet, searching for somewhere to go next.

I nodded. "Okay." Then, just to be a bit mischievous, I added, "Is she cute?"

"Er, Alice?" I rolled my eyes, smiling, practically saying _No-duh! _"Alice, she's…terribly ugly. Okay, got to go, goodbye."

I watched the boy stumble off, walking straight into the girl from District Eleven. She frowned at him but he rushed on, off to the bathrooms.

Cool, calm to nervous and anxious like that. That kid was weird.

**You win this round…you know who you are…**

**Oh, yeah, and since I'm bored…alright, here's a challenge for you! Disregard the message if you want, but since I am in one of those random moods; pick a tribute, whether they are your favorite or not, or even the Games as a whole, and imagine what you think they're theme song would be. This is just an attempt at me trying to think up new things to put on my iPod but yeah, I want to hear what you got. Maybe it'll give me a spark of inspiration.**


	20. Training: Motive

**I discovered this website called RainyMood(dot)com. It's so calming to have playing in the background, but makes me have to pee badly.**

**Also, I'm trying to update more on a basic schedule. Let's say Wednesday is my main day…maybe Surprise Saturdays every now and then?**

_**Zander De La Fuente, District 5**_

A loud thud followed by a scream got me stumbling out of my room, wielding the closest weapon I could get my hands on. This being a lamp, I saw I need to work on that skill before entering the arena.

Aries stood on the table, roaring wildly. He nudged bowls and other objects down off the table to the floor. Brandy stood off to the side and looking up to me; I saw a red, palm-shaped mark in the center of her forehead. As she looked to me, she threw her arms up, frustrated.

"What's wrong?" I yelled. The panda roared again. Brandy massaged her temples, refusing to look at me.

"He saw a mouse." Our escort was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping in.

"That little bastard was going to get me. He had that look in his eyes. He was going to gnaw on my flesh and feast on my soul." I cringed as the table creaked beneath Aries' weight. Brandy took a nervous step backwards.

"Aries," I said. "You need to get off the table. You don't want to ruin the, uh, muffins. You like the muffins."

Aries roared, rising up on his hind legs. The table creaked again and I took my own nervous step backwards. Brandy muttered beneath her breath but eyes finally widened as she glanced to her feet and waved her arms in an exaggerated gesture.

"Oh look!" she said, her voice horrible unbelievable, overstated, and sarcastic. "I shall pick this mouse off the floor and our problems shall be solved! Hooray, hooray!" She reached down and cupped her hands around an invisible object on the ground. Aries stepped back, peeking over his snack nose.

She kept her hands together until she reached the open window and tossed the lack of contents out. Her amber eyes rested on me and I could read the message clearly. _Play along._

"See, all gone, Aries," I said. "No more mouse. Why don't you come down?"

"You sure it's gone?" he asked. I nodded and he huffed indignantly. "Fine. But if you're fucking with me, then I shall have the mouse feast on your flesh." Instead of simply climbing down, he actually jumped on the table. The furniture finally gave way and the entire thing shattered to the floor. Aries stepped off like his actions were completely acceptable. He looked over his shoulder.

"Someone should clean that up," he said. Brandy smacked her forehead again and the fading mark on her skin flared red again.

"I'll go get an Avox," she mumbled. "And you…" her eyes trailed to me. "Get some pants on, please?"

I glanced to my bare chest, laughing. "Whoops. Hey, my body isn't too bad looking, it can't be that bad."

"I'll just be thankful you remembered underwear this time," Brandy snorted. I rolled my eyes, all but strutting back to my room to bother the younger girl. I'm not exactly modest. It's just my body. I don't think much about it.

I changed into the day's training uniform. Today was especially bright and sunny outside. District Five never had weather like this. There was sun…but everything in the Capitol just seemed so much grander in comparison.

I've been trying to work out plans for the next few days of training. First off, by keeping the extent of my abilities under wraps. I realized that turning into a full blown polar bear at the reaping wasn't the best approach, but hopefully no one is thinking much about it. I've been focusing most on cute and cuddly. I am cute and cuddly myself.

Alright, but in all seriousness, an alliance would help at this point. Gaining one doesn't seem too much of a problem, just finding the right person. Brandy…she's always got something up her sleeve. Yesterday, she was in my room after training, pretending to be my brother, Torin. She mastered his nervous twiddle of his thumbs and how his eyes dart around uneasily. The breath caught in my throat and I gaped at the person. Torin then transformed into Brandy, who snickered at me wickedly.

"Gotcha," she said, hopping to her feet. I frowned as she left the room, closing the door before I could freak out on her. My brother of all people…it drove me nuts. I mean, my family is why I'm in the Games in the first place. I volunteered for my brother.

I walked through the living room again to the elevator. Brandy, by what I could see, had already left. The crystal interior glistened brightly and I examined the occupants already present. The kid from Eleven who always managed to wear a top hat handled a deck of cards which he displayed to a dark-haired girl who shyly went along with it. Her tribute partner stared from over Eleven's shoulder, completely entranced.

"Hey," I greeted to two other tributes. One replied with a grimace at the corner of her mouth and gazed ahead. Long eyelashes framed chocolate brown eyes and she ran her fingers through the inch of spare hair after the ponytail holder of her braid.

The other, meanwhile, smiled. "Hi."

"I'm Zander."

"My name is Heather," the girl from Eight said.

The girl with the braid, I think she was from Eleven, paused, as if mulling over the idea of sharing her name. "Chrysanthemum." I raised my eyebrows up at the length and she shrugged. "Chrys, in short."

"Okay, Chrys," I said, testing the name out. She had a quirky arrangement of features, full lips and slightly larger than average nose, but it all seemed to work out to be appealing.

"Before you ask," she said. "I'm not exactly certain I'd like an alliance."

"Oh," I said, smiling a little. She furrowed her brow and stared hard at my eyes, only now discovering how I changed them from blue to brown to hazel and an occasional odd color like purple. "I feel shot down."

"Yeah," she said awkwardly. Heather giggled, blinking her hazel eyes at me.

"Be careful who you team up with though," she said, waggling her finger. "They could end up bashing your head into a table."

I laughed at this. Chrys' eyes flickered between us, slightly perplexed. "I hope there's a story behind that statement…"

"Of course," Heather said. The elevator came to the Training floor and Chrys slipped out fast before the doors were entirely open.

"How about you?" I said. "We team up? It'll give me time to hear that table story."

Heather paused, losing her girlish exterior, and pressed her lips together. "I'll have to think about it." She nudged a brown curl behind her ear and spun around, off to the crossbows.

_**Brodic "Bro" Loveless, District 8**_

"I'll only accept the offer," Lupe said, "because you know how to work the cards." I smiled at this. Finally, someone who accepts my offer. I've been growing, eh, twitchier with each rejection. None are so giddy in making allies and I've been working hard to keep calm. This, this works. I'm not one to work on my own. I need a team on my side.

There was a clatter of weapons and I looked about to see a boy from Ten, Hydran Ash, uneasily trying to stack everything back on the rack. He did it hurriedly, only causing more and more to fall. I turned back to Lupe but found him to be nowhere in sight.

As I turned back to the array of knives, another tribute stepped beside me. He ducked his head in, speaking low.

"I've considered and I think I'll take you on your offer," Xavier said. He blinked his blue eyes at me, waiting for me to reply. "You haven't teamed up with anyone else, right?"

Now, boys and girls, I have three options here. Either, A) say "No, I have an alliance of my own now", B) present the situation, describe my ally, and adjust the offer to make it stand as a multiple alliance he is joining or C) be a liar.

And I seriously can't help but tell a fib.

"Me? No, of course not, I'm allied with you."

Xavier grinned wolfishly. "Great. Should we eat together during lunch or something?"

Dammit, dammit, he's going to catch on. I shook my head. "No, see, you don't want the competition to know about any alliances, you know?" Xavier frowned, seeming to be annoyed by my arrogant tone, but after a moment, nodded.

"I get that, man. Okay, talk to you, uh," he glanced around, backing away, "when I do." He inched away, failing in what I assumed to be some ninja moves, and began singing a song at the top of his lungs.

Shit. What did I just do? Set up two alliances which are not in any way intertwined. This could work, though, somehow. Two people having my back? That's not that bad. It worked out better for me, actually. What downside could there possibly be?

I mean, they could somehow figure it out. Dammit, I can't exactly try to be running between two campsites at once. What am I thinking? Stupid things, that's what. The two would meet in some way in the arena. They could easily find out beforehand. I'd just…have to play my cards right. It's like a game of poker, I chided to myself. You have to withhold certain information and maybe raise the stakes at points. Put on a good enough front, people will believe anything. If I could put a good enough scheme together, Lupe and Xavier could simply kill each other.

"Um, kid?" I glanced up to the trainer, watching my fist. I was gradually driving the knife into the table and it was already an inch deep. Flinching away, a laugh slid up from my throat.

"Ah, look at that," I said. "Best training so far." The man glared at me, ripping the blade from where it was place and tossed it easily off to the side. It nailed the target, only a mere inch off from the center. He grinned smugly.

"Wow. Maybe next time you'll hit the center." I wanted to slam my head into the table after I stated this. Why can't I ever shut up?

The trainer sneered, "I'd like to see you do better."

"Like I'd waste my time." Stupid, stupid, stupid Bro.

As his face flushed red, I tossed my head back and laughed derisively, marching away. "Let me go use my time doing something worthwhile."

"You're just going to-" but he fell short, probably realizing an angry glare from a Gamemaker. I walked away smirking, despite mentally banging my head into that wall over there.

_**Cede Demeter, District 7**_

"Whoa!" The kid ducked in time as my ax soared over his head, bristling over the tips of his ginger stands of hair. I slammed the shaft of the weapon to the floor. The double-bladed axes have a bit of a different weight to them, a different way to swing them, but I got used to it fast. The ginger kid had narrowly dodged the weapon when I tried it out. In my defense, he's the one that got to close.

"Watch yourself," I chided. Cameron, I think that's his name, frowned in dismay.

"You're the one who nearly decapitated me," he said.

I found myself scowling now. "I wasn't contradicting you, alright? I was just telling you to watch out." Cameron, after a long moment, sighed.

"Okay. Sorry. I'm trying to work on not dying. Still need to work on that." He hefted down the small ax he had been struggling with (one I could have admittedly used with no problem when I was twelve) and strolled away. Another boy, from Ten, leapt back, hissing as Cameron brushed by him.

"Back, ginger-demon, back!"

I laughed, turning back to practice. The action still kept my attention partially, just from the corner of my eye.

Cameron, in retaliation, stomped his foot and faked as if he were flying forward to get him. Ten skittered back, tripping over a young girl and collapsing to the floor. He hopped to his feet again and continued running backwards.

"Be gone, demon, you're not welcome here," he shouted. Cameron rolled his eyes, offering a hand to the girl who had gotten into Ten's path. She took it, but upon standing, punched him in the gut. Cameron doubled over, cringing at the girl.

"Thanks, Ginger Boy," she mumbled, stalking off.

"You're such a doll, Lauryn," he called to the girl, his district partner as I realized it.

A smile crossed my features as I swung again at the final training dummy. But in the instant, the weight of it altered in my grip. It dipped and missed entirely, slipping from my grip and skidding across the floor.

"Dammit," I muttered. Even as I watched it, I saw the enlarged blade begin to shrink again. Every fiber in me tensed and I had to keep from yelling in frustration.

This damned mutation! It favors me in no way. There is absolutely no optimistic view point to this. I can make things bigger and smaller. It'd be great if it were duplication because then my family wouldn't be in such lower class. But I can't fucking stand it! I'm already a freak around the district and all it did was get me reaped for these stupid Games. Some kids may rep the whole mutant thing with pride, but seriously, it's an abnormal growth of our cells. Thus, we are abnormal. We're fucking freaks that should be in a circus, like last year.

Forgetting the ax, I fled over to the hand-to-hand combat station. I seriously needed to get some of this anger out.

_**Balthizar Demarkos, District 1**_

"So…" Shale started off with.

"Do they have to eat with us at every meal?" Foe and Bree asked in unison. Both were already hazy on the idea of a twelve year old in the alliance. Me, I don't see the problem. It just increases how dangerous she is and a threat and advantage to them in the pack. See, you're a smaller, weaker tribute. You sneak in on the group at night, who would you think to take out first in case the pack was to wake up? You'd take out the biggest threat. I presume annihilating a young, childish, perhaps naïve girl would be both the lowliest and nonsensical choice. Why not the other snarkier, sarcastic tribute that will kill you without batting an eye, like she did so in to the replica in training? Do you expect someone such as Alice to come and stab you so menacingly?

Yet, there's the advantage. In a non-ambush situation, they'd take to Alice first to kill. But, in all honesty, Alice won't put up with that.

So, as I see it, having Alice in our group is fine. I don't believe getting on the bad side of her creatures would be a wise decision either. They're actually great company. Although, the deer kept giving me weird looks and were possibly too friendly to my leg.

Alice reached up and stroked my head of black, wiry curls, giggling as her petite hand ran over my curly horns. "Well, duh, they do. They're our friends. And Hansel needs to eat at every meal or he gets really grumpy. I've been trying to get him to stop eating so many sweets 'cause he's getting really chubby."

"Do the creatures act like normal species?" I asked, experimentally poking one. The dwarf snarled at me, snapping my finger. I jerked away in time but still felt stings of pain where its sharp teeth grazed my skin. "Because, Hansel's sugar intake, with his body mass, would most likely result in heart disease in a typical adult male. Granted he's more of a young child, I believe-"

I was blinded momentarily as my finger jabbed up into my eye. Bree snickered at this and through my healthy eye I could see Alice pout.

"Stop being all mind bendy to Balthy," she said. "He's my second best friend, you know. Why aren't you nice like Sandy?"

The District Four tribute grinned. "Alice, you can call me Santiago."

"But that name is so long," she whined. "Sandy is just short and simple. Alecto calls you that." Alice swung her legs as they couldn't quite reach the floor. Birds flitted by our heads, one resting on the tip of my horns.

Shale snapped his fingers. "That's the name, Alecto Aquitaine! I didn't realize he was your brother."

"Yep," Bree smirked. "Sandy here is his adorable little brother." She pinched Santiago's freckled cheeks. He pulled her hand away, laughing sarcastically in a charming sort of way.

"What does your brother say about the Games?" I asked. Santiago blinked at me curiously, thinking before answering.

"Well, not much really. It's just the Mutant Games." He shrugged in a no-big-deal sort of way.

I drummed my fingers on the table, resting my chin on the lower one of my right arms. "See, the Games simply aren't mere survival or a means of punishment, because then they'd very simply kill us all. I mean, we don't know who we truly are until the very end. We question death and life, but we won't entirely know until we experience it. The Games put into perspective of all of human nature. People don't understand what there is to life until put into a life threatening situation. Those with the will to live will strive most, more than those who doubt what offers are provided to them. It what makes human, in sense, human. No one quite sees this since they're so focused on the 'fight to the death' portion."

Santiago nodded, digesting this. Alice's large green eyes glistened blankly and the others simply stared at me, mouths hanging open a little dumbly.

"I'm in the Games to prove to everyone I'm not just Sprite's sister to always be overlooking. I'm not just some stupid freak."

"Why I'm here sort of changes as I go along," Shale murmured.

"I'm just in it for the cash," Bree scoffed.

Alice hopped up on the bench. She wasn't quite taller than all of us sitting down. "I'm here because I raised my hand and the lady said to come here. I mean, I couldn't let my friend Luna come here, she's much too shy. But this is just so much fun!" Her monsters howled and yipped, causing many tributes to shift awkwardly in their seats.

Huh. This is interesting to consider. Careers are just an interesting bunch, good to follow around if I want to learn from the experience. A curious bunch, all with different drives to win, different motives to raise their hand and volunteer, knowing full well they may not come back home.

**It took me so long to think up the third POV. Lots of…*slams head into keyboard*. And sometimes, there are those reviews…like Zander being UTR…meanwhile; I already had his section of POV written…I feel special.**

**And thanks everyone, your suggestions…really got me laughing, and iPod stocked.**

**Edit: Yes, I edited that one bit…you do not realize how long it took me to fucking find it…you'll never let me live that one down, too, I realize…**


	21. Private Training: Because Bunnies Rule

…**I'm officially debating on getting a Beta. After that…screw up…I hate you all, by the way…I'm actually considering. **

_**Heather Aurum, District 8**_

Bro anxiously twiddled his thumbs, shaking his leg beneath the table. His almond-shaped gray eyes constantly glanced about the room, from one tribute, to another, back to the other tribute, down to his feet and up to the door. He's awfully twitchy, I've come to realize, and I was also thankful to have chosen to sit at the next table over as we awaited our private training sessions. A boy began to stride over to him, but he shook his head. I believe I may have been the only one to notice.

"Shale Van Newhouse." The smallest boy of the Careers slid to his feet. He grinned to his allies saying a quick "Wish me luck!" I'm pretty sure only one of them did.

Santiago's gaze drifted my way and I tore my eyes away, biting my lip. Darn, it looked like I was staring. He was awfully cute though. Shyly looking up again, I found him still looking my way. I spared a smile and he grinned back before turning his head. Santiago's partner caught this exchange and, with a devious smirk, made some sort of comment that caused him to roll those gorgeous hazel eyes.

Bree, I not-so-vaguely remember her name as, smiled broadly at me, blowing a kiss. My hand unconsciously goes to my forehead and runs along the stitches so carefully placed. A second later, my nails have dragged themselves along my face and I squeal in pain. Bree snickered, the girl from Two frowning beside her. She rose a speculative eyebrow up and I flushed an embarrassing red.

I launched myself up from my feet, fighting to put on an intimidating front. Bree's gaze locked with mine and she cackled derisively. This was possibly the worst mistake to make and angry feelings built up so much within me. Bree's expression crumpled into confusion and slight fear. In an instant, it was my confused expression I was staring at.

"Bree?" the girl from Two asked, prodding my shoulder. A metal earring glistened from her left ear, which she tugged at. "You're trying to mess with some District Eight girl, cut the crap." Santiago smirked. I observed the other me from the corner of my eye, the situation beginning to process gradually in her mind.

Okay, Bree sounded like a completely narcissistic, egotistical girl who knew fifteen ways to kill me with her eyes closed, taking "killing myself" as one large selection. But, right now, I was stronger than her. I _was_ her. So, I simply can't hit myself right now because I'd be the one taking the blow.

"Someone looks mad," Santiago said, nodding over to me, uh, other me. His eyes remained on me, me as me person right here.

I should have simply switched back into my original body. But that annoyed fit of anger towards the District Four girl raged on. I couldn't possibly hit myself…but I could smack someone else…

Without much thought or planning, using as much muscle as I could possibly gather, I threw my hand across the District Two girl's face. And as fast as I possibly could, I switched back into my own body. The last thing I saw as Bree was Two's intense glare and my training clothes bundled up at the collar in her fist.

_**Hydran Ash, District 10**_

"Ow!" I voiced aloud, cringing. "That must have hurt." The fact I could hear the slap of palm against face was enough to prove it most likely hurt like a bitch.

"What the hell was that?" the girl with straight hair barked. She was thinner than the girl she grappled but I vaguely remember her beating the crap out of the big muscled dudes in training. It actually captured my attention a bit which means it was worth watching.

"Whoa, hey!" the Four girl shouted. She was shoved backwards into the wall, earning the attention of guards. Instead of rushing in, they paused and watched amused by the scene. "That wasn't me!"

"Sure looked like you," Two hissed. Tendrils of smoke drifted from her mouth and nose, whoa, like a fucking dragon!

Four clenched her hands around her combatant's wrists and forced them down. Two's hands released the shirt and they stared each other down. "It was stupid Eight, Foe. She body-snatched me."

Foe's growled but snapped her attention around as her name was called. "Foe Sterling."

In mere seconds, I was bored again. This would be the last day I'd be able to talk my tribute peers, I realized, and the last space of time for me to try to team up and make an alliance. I couldn't just make one with any one, though. My dear partner Annabelle had one, was actually sitting over by her and chatting at the moment. Brandy, that's her ally's name. I only remember because she hails from the District of the awesome Aries Prospero. Good choice, I must admit. Brandy may be sarcastic and manipulative and will probably kill Annabelle when things start getting serious but seriously, she could tell awesome stories about the panda lord!

Okay, but, in all seriousness…bah, since when am I serious? I couldn't even take that line seriously. But, seriously, I need an ally. They'd have to meet several points on a major criteria scale. They are as follows:

One; does not want to kill me. I'm not exactly sure how that one could work until we're in an arena with scary knives in our hands but I'll guess I'll have to deal with that.

Two; keep my attention. I mean, if they kept my attention, I could live longer. Because, if I'm paying attention to them, my mind won't wander. If my mind doesn't wander, then I won't wander off and stumble onto some other tributes with scary knives in their hands. Makes sense, huh?

Three; defend and save my ass. Because when I wander off and stumble upon the tributes with scary knives in their hands that will be pointed at my throats to kill me, I will then be able to run away while they beat people up all dramatically with some ninja moves.

Four; be able to do dramatic ninja moves when they defend and/or save my ass from the other tributes I stumbled upon with scary knives in their hands, pointed at my throat to kill me. Why is this important? Because it's badass, that's why. I mean, I'd be a ninja if I could. But whenever I try, I sort of fall and almost break my neck and it just turns out bad, alright?

So, with all this in mind, I went to work on assessing my options. The duo from District Three sat off by themselves and was a tad too antisocial for my taste. Five, well, Brandy was allied with Annabelle and her partner…he was very pretty…but meh. My eyes shifted (they hadn't shitted, but shifted) to Six to review them when a different, young girl crossed my sights. Strawberry blonde was tied back from her face at the nape of her neck and the girl had an overall sweet, angelic aura about her.

I launched myself to my feet and made large strides in the forms of skips up to her, jumping down and landing hard. My knees tinkled with the sudden force. They felt very much like rubber as they struggled to support my weight.

"'Ello," I greeted, saluting off to her. She blinked once.

"Uh, hi?"

I offered out my hand to the girl, leaning down to her eyelevel. "The name is Hydran, Hydran Ash. I'm from District Ten."

The girl, after a moment, took my hand. It was so small compared to mine and when we released, she rubbed off the sweat on my hands on the sides of her pants. "I'm Poise, District Nine."

I slid onto the bench beside her, leaning back on the table. "So you're twelve, right?"

"Thirteen, actually." She scratched the back of her ear. "Are you proposing-?"

"Whoa," I said, raising my hands up defensively. "I just met you, sweetheart. Like, what would my parents say? You're thirteen; I'm way too old for you. I mean I'm like fourteen, you're thirteen, and we're just too different. I'm from Ten, you're from District Nine, and I don't want to be rushing into a serious relationship."

"I meant are you proposing an alliance, you dunderhead," she said curtly.

I lowered my hands, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, okay. Phew, you do not know how relieved I am to hear you say that. I'm just not ready for a committed relationship like that, you know?"

Poise opened and closed her mouth several times before clamping it shut with a conclusive snap. "Of course. But are you saying we should be an alliance?"

"Depends; are you the girl who could do that flippy stuff? With the agility and crap?"

Poise frowned momentarily. "Um, yes. I'm an awesome climber."

I grinned. "So, allies?"

She paused in thought. "Sure. We're allies." Yes, I have gotten my ninja!

_**Cameron Wynn, District 6**_

Freeze, you stupid table. Freeze.

Lauryn raised an eyebrow watching me. What's up with this? My powers worked great. I've had them all my life; I have perfect control over them. After school, I'd practice using them when I was working on an especially elaborate idea. Other times, mainly over the past few days, it's been crapping out. My hand pressed hard into the table before me and I focused on cold, on transforming the nice looking mahogany into ice.

Nothing.

"Dammit." Lauryn pursed her lips, tracing an invisible pattern on the table. She drummed her fingers and looked up to me.

"Are you sure you're a mutant? I mean, the machine in Six could have been having an off day."

I scrutinized the younger girl curiously. "Yes, I'm a mutant. Maybe you mastered the freak part and they got confused." Lauryn scowled, snatching my collar.

"Cameron Wynn."

We both glanced up at the call of my name. Lauryn was tough for her age, but yanking her hand away took little effort. It was almost humorous how she thought she could intimidate me. A feeling of guilt swept over me at this thought. She's simply brave, in such a dismal situation. Only one or neither of us could live, could make it home. I pushed Lauryn to the back of my mind, instead bringing forward Amy and John and Tom. My parents, my little sister. I needed to see them before I die. The only possible way that could happen was to make it home and live my life I would have.

I strode through the doors, trying to appear confident, aloof to all of them. The Gamemakers, clad in purple robes, peered down at me. Well, some at least did. Most of the others chatted amongst each other, laughing over their extravagant meals. One in the center of the mix stared intently and I could only assume this was Head Gamemaker. Interestingly, I couldn't quite decide if this were a boy or a girl. Short, naturally brown hair was cropped to only an inch past the forehead and a hard as steel look cast itself upon me from their hard gray eyes. They gestured for me to get on with it with a metal-gloved hand.

I gazed across the gym blankly, taking in the various stations. Assistants stood silently at hand at those that required aid. It'd be rather odd for someone to be wrestling themselves, I realize. I take one last glance to the Gamemakers. In a second, their laughter struck me as an obnoxious, continuous buzz ringing in my ear and made me want to punch some faces hard. They took such luxury, such joy out of their job. These monsters agreed to this. Agreed to not only killing innocent kids but to help it, to support such actions, to make innocent kids into murders and savages. Gamemakers, the Capitol, all of them, I couldn't have felt such intense hatred towards a different group even if desired it.

They wanted to see me train? Snatching a dagger, I chucked it hard at a target. It slammed into one of the inner rings, not the center, but a little off to the right. Some Gamemakers noted it with apathetic glances. Everything in me demanded for them to at least know the face of their victim as they so carelessly cast me aside.

I examined the next dagger in my hand, its handle pristine, yet with slight worn that increased its usefulness. Cold sprung down my arm as I transfigured the blade to ice and stared at the target again. This was no curse that damned me to such horrid Games. It was a gift to be admired. All these tributes, they deserved recognition. We were unique in ways people could never relate to.

Aiming carefully, I brought my hand back and easily followed through. The spot I had laid my eyes on was now occupied by my shining dagger and I instantly snatched another and tossed it. With was closely followed by another and another. I have to admit, it's my best trick thus far in all my life. It could possibly be my last. But as each letter became clear and legible, the Gamemakers narrowed their sights on my target, occasionally sending a glance my way.

I reiterated my point by striding off to the cluster of daggers and sliding it around for the spectators to have a dead-on view. All of them were grim, others seemingly impressed. The Head Gamemaker, Gamemaker PJ, I now remembered, and came to the full conclusion that she was definitely a young woman, pursed her lips. Those cold steel eyes glowed red and yellow now, like molten lava, or better yet, heated metal.

"You may take my life," I stated, almost sarcastically. "But you will never take my freedom." A thin nosed, mousy-haired Gamemaker began to rise in his chair, but was jerked back down by a sudden force. He frowned at PJ, mumbling to the plate before him.

"There's more to life than mere freedom, boy," she said. Head Gamemaker PJ's face darkened, eyes contrasting as simmering orbs of heat about to burst. Her tone wasn't vicious, though, not the least bit. "I believe your time is up."

Attendants quickly strode up to my collection of daggers and tore them out. Still, I smirked slightly as the blades left their own defining slice in the dark target. The final word made me smile.

_Freedom._

_**Xavier Drascal, District 13**_

It was about the time the girl from District Ten was called in for her private session when he approached me; the boy with the top hat.

He sat down in a fluid movement, adjusting his top hat back to reveal his bright blue eyes and the few specks of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

"Hello, strange person," I greeted. The boy smiled in response but in a formal sort of way.

"Xavier Drascal," fuck, he knows my name, "I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but your ally is two-timing you."

I glanced awkwardly about. "You mean Bro?"

"Yes, Loveless, but you must understand he's withholding certain information from you, such as that he presented a similar proposition to me." It took me a moment to process his words.

"So Bro allied with you too?" The boy nodded. "And your name is?"

"Lupe Ismene," he said, adding a certain grandness as he spoke.

I pursed my lips in thought. Bro having another alliance wasn't bad. It's the fact he never mentioned it to me. Very incriminating stuff here. So, for all I know, he planned to meet up with Lupe and kill me the first chance he got. That's not too good.

"Why should I believe you?"

Lupe actually smiled genuinely. In an ostentatious sweep of his arm, he plucked his top hat off his head, exposing a hedge of spiked brown hair. The hat was sleek and black on each side and he placed it upside-down on the table before us silently.

I looked up to him. "What are you doing?" But as I asked this question, Lupe reached into the opening up to his elbow, pulling out a snow white bunny. I blinked rapidly at the fluffy creature.

"Okay, I believe you." Lupe smirked mischievously. "So, uh-"

"I have some things in mind, Xavier, my friend, and I suggest you listen now."

**I believe you will come to appreciate these Surprise Saturdays better in the future. And I believe next chapter involves a POV that is long overdue. **


	22. All Fluff, No Ginger

**Happy Wednesday! Now, regarding this chapter…I thought you guys would have been able to guess this. **

_**Aries Prospero, Victor of 15**__**th**__** Mutant Games**_

Zander leapt back in shock as he saw me. I mean I know I'm gorgeous but he could at least try to restrain himself. I flashed a smile his way and tousled my hair with my hand. He stood frozen in the elevator and had to slam on the door button again to keep it open.

"You're not a panda," Zander gaped. I glanced down to my chest, covered not by fur but a cotton white shirt and my fair-skinned arms. The kid (which maybe isn't the best way to describe him since he is only a year younger than me) stumbled in, unable to tear his gaze away from me. The escort grunted, sipping his wine in a fanciful manner from his position at the table. It was rather surprising, considering he always gets that pug faced expression whenever I'm in his presence. I gestured for my tribute to take seat on the couch, sipping my own red-colored liquid. Since alcohol tastes very sincerely like crap and I have yet to find a bloodsucker in this Capitol that wasn't a lawyer, the only guessable contents could be fruit punch.

"How-how are you here?" Zander stammered. His intense green-gray eyes seemed to have lost the ability to blink. I smiled, chugging down more of my drink and wiping the liquid from my lips with the back of my hand.

"It's a long story that I have had to explain to countless pandas in the past. See, when a mommy panda and a daddy panda love each other very much, they decide to have a baby-"

"I understand that part," Zander cut off, waving his hands about to stop me. Damn and I was just about to go looking for my puppets. He seriously had to suck all the fun out of my job. "The you-being-human-now-when-you-were-a-panda part is what's confusing me."

I blinked at him as it dawned on me. "Ooh, right. See, I've been gradually able to switch my consciousness back and forth between this body and my panda body. Most of the time, I'm just the panda because my soul was forced into here by an awkward emo kid. He had denied all emo claims, but seriously, someone who hangs with dead things and wears dark clothing and has flipable hair and is overall so emotional, he's an emo kid. But, hey, power to him, he shall, well, shadn't be suppressed by the labels of todays mucked up society."

"I'm pretty sure 'shadn't' isn't a word, Aries," Mr. Grumpy Pants called from his seat. His words were just ever so slightly unclear. "Neither is flipable for that matter."

I hopped to my feet and growled at the man, which sort of lacked that intimidation when you didn't have that burly panda voice to back it up. Mr. Grumpy Pants raised a drawn on eyebrow and proceeded to pour himself another glass of wine. Zander grinned at the exchange. Don't quite see the humor in this.

"You were saying?"

My eyes swung up to Fuente. "Huh?"

"Your consciousness?" he pressed. "Emo District Twelve boy, labels, you were explaining?"

I frowned down at the bottom of my glass, a mere red puddle unable to reach my delighted tongue. I tried sopping it up, but a human tongue just cannot reach that far, no matter how hard you try. An Avox finally tapped me on the shoulder and I grinned up at the jug they held. Instead of accepting another glass, I simply snatched the container and drank my fill. Ah, hit the spot.

"Yes, I was," I nodded. "So, yeah. Erone put me in Bubba's dead body. But that's not the body meant for me. I'm meant to live in a human body because that's, like, the body I was all born in and stuff, you know? My soul gravitates and drifts off there every now and then, to the human, real Aries body. It'd be smart to explain now that if I suddenly drop dead, that's alright; I'm just back in the panda body."

Zander nodded. You know, I'm not sure if he was exactly picking all this up. I barely understood what I said, so I do hope he can explain it to me.

"Is it possible for you to dispose of the panda body so if your soul tries to return to it, there will be nowhere to go but in your original host being?" Wow. That sounded really smart sounding.

"See, that would be a problem. It means I could never be a panda after that. And being a panda is awesome, because you're all fluffy and people love you! You would seriously hate a panda? They've done nothing wrong to me. Why hate on the lovable creatures? They're totally better than rabbits you know."

Zander slumped back in his seat. "Of course. Why would I think such a thing?" Everyone became silent, and I figured it might as well be time to turn on the TV to listen to people who like listening to themselves. Grabbing the remote, I chucked it at the television. It crashed hard, totally off from where I was aiming, and forming a little crack in the center. All those in the room flinched back and shot strange looks towards me. What? I'm pretty sure I did nothing wrong.

"What was that?" Mr. Grumpy Pants cried in a voice way too high to be considered masculine, even on a Capitol accent scale. I gestured to the television tiredly.

"The TV is all the way over there. That requires me to stand, walk all the way across this expanse of carpet, find the Power button, press the button, and walk all the way back to my spot to sit. What if I don't like what's on the TV? The effort of standing and doing the process all over again," I shook my head, laying a hand on my chest, "I'm winded just thinking about it."

"Use the bloody remote then!" Mr. Grumpy Pants screeched. "Instead of trying to throw it at the Power switch, just use the one on the _remote_." I scrutinized the item, walking over and scooping up the pieces. Little shards managed to stab my skin

"Hey, look at that," I said. I turned to Zander, showing the device to him. "Did you know of this dark magic?"

"It's an isolated concept," he said, rising and walking off to his room. "Almost _remote_."

We laughed but my face became stock still afterwards. At the sound of his door clicking shut, I asked, "What was he babbling about?"

Mr. Grumpy Pants cast his creepy gaze on me. Without saying a word, he began drinking down wine, straight from the bottle.

Through the elevator doors walked out Brandy now. She blinked once, twice, before shaking her head. "I'm going to my room."

"Have fun!" I called. Then a thought struck me. "Oh, hey, aren't you-?"

"I don't want to know." The fourteen year old's door slammed shut behind her, leaving me all by myself with Grumpy Pants. I pressed the Power button to the television, turning and plopping back down onto the couch. Damn, that was way too much work. The crack scattered the picture a bit, the colors unsaturated in that specific spot. I guess we'll need to order a new screen.

A thought occurred to me and instantly, three pandas popped up beside me. I scratched behind their ears, the female hopping onto the sofa cushion. In the space of a few seconds, the foam insides were already scattered about. Pucca dug her paw at my side, whimpering.

"Yeah," I whispered. "I miss him too."

Bubba was my best friend. Tears spring to my eyes at the thought of the panda. I miss the long-time comrade. We did everything together. It seemed like only yesterday I was wandering District Five when the strange fluffy creature appeared out of nowhere and landed on my head. He deserved no such demise. I tried to protect him. I tried to bring him back. I should have tried harder. I'm in his body. Not right now, but typically, I'm in his body. The longing for my sidekick and best friend caused a few spare tears to spill over my lids. No, stay strong, for the others.

No one should know the pain of losing their best friend. I looked down at Pucca, her dark eyes glazed sadly. She barked a message, one I had never quite thought about.

"The tributes? What tributes?" It seemed as if she were rolling her eyes at me. "Oh, the ones I'm mentoring? What about them?"

She sat up straight beside me. "Roar."

"Hmm…" I thought aloud. "Well, I guess it would be hypocritical of me. And that was a low blow with bringing Bubba into this. I know, he would want me to try to save these kids. But, I don't know, the girl sort of scares me. She doesn't exactly smell like apples." Pucca grunted. "So, wait, how do I help them? And what if they're low lives who have no best friends? Then I'd be saving non-best friended people."

The panda scowled, chewing some more on the fabric. "Okay. I'll try to be all mentoringish to them. But if this comes to bite me in the ass, I'm blaming you." The other pandas around me began gnawing on furniture and demanded I stroke their broad bellies. Gah, they're just so fluffy!

Pucca snuffled, sticking her nose up victoriously. "Don't get all high and mighty on me. I'm doing this for Bubba." The female grinned panda-ishly at me. She won this round.

"Hey!" I called. Better go let my lil' District Five tributes in on my plans. However, as I lay all weight on my legs, an instant, light-headed feeling swept over me. Before I knew it, I had hit the ground. Eyes closed once, and reopening them, I was in my room, all fluff, and no ginger.

_**Neve Hadron, District 3**_

"Didn't you guys agree to team up?" Federico, our escort, inquired.

"Yes," we said in unison. The side of Leon's mouth twitched up momentarily before he looked back to the meal on his plate emotionlessly. Our Federico fumbled with his drink, spilling over little drops onto the tablecloth. Our mentor Angele's brows furrowed in thought.

"Is there any problems with that?" Leon asked. He scratched his chin, frowning and finally sighing. He's probably only just getting used to the fact the little beard he had there was gone.

Federico said, "I'd just expect you guys to become more comfortable with each other, get to know each other. I don't know; grow some sort of trust bond with each other." He stared at our unresponsive expressions, sighing ruggedly. "So?"

Angele laid down his drink, sitting back in his seat. "District Three isn't full of the most outgoing people, Fed," he said. "And I believe they have enough of each other's trust that's safe enough. Too much could be killer." I considered this for a moment. It made plenty of sense coming from him. He managed to earn the trust of the competitors in the year he won and eventually used it against them.

Too much trust, I thought. I looked up to Leon and found his grey-blue eyes to be watching me already. Could I possibly trust this boy too much to have him murder me in my sleep? Could he have the tenacity to kill me?

"I'm finished," I stated, pushing the half-eaten plate further away from the edge of the table. Earlier, we had sat through scores and it managed to set a worrisome feeling in the pit of my stomach. No matter how hard I tried to put the thought aside, I couldn't avoid the thought on how so many tributes managed to score so well. I received a simple six and Leon managed a seven. Still, all except the young girl of One amongst the Careers had within the eight through eleven range. Plenty of other tributes had low scores like District Six and District Ten. But there were many others with much higher scores. I would be certainly facing larger and much more dangerous competitors.

Rising from my chair, I took refuge in my room, ensuring the door was closed behind me. Instead of lying back on the bed, I paced. The pressures weren't hitting me too bad. I could move, I could breathe. My best chance would be to try to stay alive as long as I could with Leon. If we could strategize enough, we could somehow figure out how to eliminate the stronger tributes. There was no possible way to plan much farther ahead. I had no idea what to expect in the arena, what the arena exactly is.

A knock at the door broke me from my pondering. "Could I come in?"

Deciding quickly, I opened to door and waved Leon in. He gazed curiously about my room, shaking his head. "These places are so big."

"What do you want?" I asked directly. Leon took a seat on my bed, running his hands over the soft fabric.

"Federico had a point about the whole trust thing," he said. The words made me grimace.

"So?"

My partner and ally took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly from his nose. "I'm saying…I trust you Neve."

"I trust you too," I replied, a little surprised. I didn't even think about it, the words just sort of came out without me thinking about it.

Leon nodded, a small smile flashing onto his face. This surprised me too, considering the cold front he usually had raised. Thinking about it, I'm so open myself. "My mom always mentioned how you were her favorite student," he said quietly.

I smiled a little, flattered that my teacher would think of me and actually talk about me around her children. "Mrs. Cabler is my favorite teacher," I managed to say back. Any form of a compliment was unusual to me. In general, I'm just not used to having someone to talk to. My dad on occasion and Mrs. Cabler on small discussions on various lessons at school, that's about it. Leon's smile broadened and he rocked back up to his feet. This signaled the end to our conversation. Wow. I actually had a conversation.

"She'd love to hear you say that." After an awkward pause, he patted my shoulder and moved towards the door. "Interview preparation tomorrow. Bright and early."

"Yeah," I said. "Good night, Leon."

"Good night." He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone.

_**Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District 4**_

"You got this, Sandy," Alecto said as Bree walked back in. The escort had been going over the walking part while Alecto perfected the talking part. There wasn't much to go over with us, though. We've practiced my interview numerous times and earning adoration isn't exactly hard for me. Bree smirked as our gazes met and I smiled more genuinely back. This girl is the epitome of all bitchiness in the fucking Games. Cocky, snarky and oh so full of herself, it'll be fun to watch her struggle. All the Careers are pretty decent but I can tell I have the highest intelligence among them, even if they don't realize it.

Despite all makeup coverage, the underlying black eye still showed through. After Heather fled Bree's body, my partner hadn't been able to explain herself fast enough to stop Foe's irritated oncoming fist. I smirked at the thought, running my hand over the leather band wound around my wrist. The only being I actually miss back in District Four is my dog, Cabell. My unstable parents aren't exactly close and dear to my heart and my brother is here with me now. Cabell may have half the brains as some of the people here, but he's the best creature I've ever met to confide in.

"Does Sandy have to wear the pirate costume again?" Bree smirked, leaning on her cheek. I rolled my eyes while Alecto laughed.

"Do I look like a stylist?" my brother barked. He laughed again and shot me his own smirk. Bree obviously didn't detect it.

I adjusted the Cabell's collar on my right wrist. "How are you handling interviews, Bree?" The girl flicked her wavy her behind her shoulder.

"You don't need to know," she scoffed. It wasn't hard to see why Foe didn't like the girl so much. The District Two even revealed it to me while in training. Foe was a badass boxer, knew all those points on you to take you down, and it was after helping me up did the discussion occur.

Bree had been standing off to the side with her arms crossed, observing. "Does a sword not work as well?"

"What happens if there are no swords in the Cornucopia?" Foe snapped. Mind you, Bree had been making sly comments all throughout, gradually wearing down Foe's tolerance. "Should I just use a spork?"

"Seems more useful than that," Bree snickered. Right before she strode off, she sent Foe flying forward. The only thing keeping her from face planting was me. With Foe in my arms, I could feel every muscle in her tense and I restrained her long enough for her to calm.

"I swear, the first chance I get, I'm burning her ass off completely." Foe patted herself off.

I shrugged. "She can't help it. She's Bree."

Foe snorted tersely. Skipping a beat, she said, "Thanks for, uh, catching me." I nodded back. "I don't exactly trust you, but I trust you a lot more than I do her."

The District Two girl did earn my interest. Alice Lynn and Balthy were real cartoons and a reckless bunch but Alice Lynn was unpredictable. Balthy, he had a way with those swords. There was no question on how he earned that ten in training.

I could most possibly die in the next couple of days. But, seriously, if I just stay on the course I am now, I'm guaranteed a spot as Victor.

**The Games are coming up real soon, guys. Who's ready? Depending on how I start writing, it'll be the next/after the next chapter. WHO'S PUMPED?**


	23. Gamemaker: Ready to Launch

**I was going to call last chapter "Who's Your Favorite Victor?" then realized that not many of you would understand the joke behind it. If you do, though, I shall love you forever.**

_**Gamemaker PJ**_

"What are you doing?"

Drake looked up from where he sat, hunched over and entranced into the screen before him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, poised to write and the skin on his lip was gnawed raw. Tiny eyes darted to me and shone with discontent.

"Last minute preparation," he stated simply, scowling back to his computer screen. The Capitol had slowly been morphing him and the idea of power was practically inflating his head. Already, his dark hair was dyed bleach blonde and his skin tanned or dyed or sprayed to replicate some sort of beach bum look. He managed to nail the bum description. When not wearing his robe, Drake wore awfully pathetic sequins and satin. All too grand, too showy. None of it could mask that Chihuahua look about him, the jittery quake in his high-pitched voice and what seemed like forced blinking.

"Boy, you need to relax," I said, noting the edgy way he jabbed at his keys and ground his teeth. He released a long sigh and I urged to punch that one jewel encrusted tooth from his mouth. "That's coming from me."

"Don't call me boy," he hissed. Wow, what's up his butt?

Grabbing a chair, I jogged a few steps before hopping aboard and wheeling across the room to my desk. It's sad how many desks a person can have. I grinned at the neatly arranged files and the mug of hot chocolate still steaming on a coaster. This intern was good.

"I like this girl," I said after a gulp. "She kisses ass pretty well. Best intern I've ever had."

"May I mention that you've only ever had two interns," Drake shot. He sighed, tapping back several spaces as his anger had led to some random letter jabbing. "One who very well managed to become a Gamemaker himself, no thanks to your supposed internship and stupid teachings that mainly involved fetching damn hot chocolate." Whoa, what is this? Is he…is he giving me an annoyed tone? This bastard was actually talking back. I hope he's fucking with me. Because, certainly no one would dare talk to me in such a manner. Especially an ass like him who could barely string a few words together last year without tripping over them.

Drake yelped as he flew backwards, clutching at the clasp of his robe that gradually choked him around his neck. "I suggest you not use such a tone around me, boy." When his pathetically tanned face began to lose its color, I finally released my hold on the metal. Drake forced air into his lungs and gagged on saliva that had been in the way. Angry eyes glared hard at me and I shrugged inertly at him.

"You're a freak!" he spat, launching to his feet. "A dirty, mutated, contaminated freak! I can say whatever the damn well I please about you. I'm not your stupid intern anymore and I should be the one looking down onto you!" Drake ducked just in the nick of time as I motioned a sharply tipped pen to fly towards him. It struck the wall behind him and stuck there like a dart.

Drake's eyes narrowed on me. "You'll regret that." I did not reply, for at that moment, Ember trotted into the room with her bouncy corkscrew curls dangling in perfect spirals about her face. Her eyes blinked from me, to Drake, then back to me behind her horn-rimmed glasses and I simply held my hand out for what paperwork she had to give me. After one last flash Drake's way, she passed the single file over. I snatched up my hot chocolate. Even without looking his way, I felt the withering look from the lower Gamemaker. He kidded no one with this big boy act he had.

Ember's small heels clicked behind me as we walked to my office. The girl was quiet and new how to get and stay on my good side. She also had difficulty keeping it that way, with the snarky comments that managed to slip. I liked her, though, and some of what she says proves she has great workings of a Gamemaker. A long pause of hesitance passed before she spoke up.

"What was that about?"

I raised a perplexed eyebrow. "What was what about?"

Looking back behind my shoulder, I found Ember's gaze settled comfortably on me. "That argument you had with Gamemaker Drake. I take it you guys don't get along."

I shrugged, pressing the button of the elevator. "Nope. He was my intern last year. The kid doesn't know how to buck up." I paused to sip my drink. "Being a Gamemaker isn't so easy. Plenty of ideas are shot down my President Waldo, and plenty of pro-mutant radical types try to kill me more often than I'd care to know. Why should I lighten up since you're an intern?"

"Oh," Ember said, surprised. I examined her face and smirked. The young girl's face staled. "But you do it for the kicks too."

"Why of course!" I exclaimed, chuckling. We boarded as the doors slid open and I reached a hand out expectantly. Instantly, Ember gave me my digital organizer tablet. I nodded in approval. "See, this is why I like you better."

The tributes were already awake and I scrolled through the heart rate statistics. Some were slow and steady, others rattling on at a nervous pace. The trackers were being placed now and it took some moments for the data to appear on my screen. I rolled my purple sleeves up to my scuffed elbows.

"Ready, Ember?"

The girl widened her eyes at being addressed. "Ready when you are, PJ."

"That's what I like to hear." Some travel later, I plopped into the plush wheeled chair of my office, dropping the contents in my arms onto the flashing dashboard. Ember peered over my shoulder curiously and she was close enough for me to feel the scratchy fabric added underneath her skirt to add its fluffy volume brush against my arm. She backed away as she saw my arm tense and I restrained myself from grabbing her glasses by their metal screws and flinging them across the room. I fiddled with the metal glove fastened around my hand and dug my nails at a scratch on my head. It was in the process of note of the room when I found the one item out of place; a major item it was.

My eyes instantly flickered to the notebook so haphazardly tossed onto the floor. It must have hurriedly been swept back on the desk and fallen. But someone had touched it.

In quick strides, I rose and scooped up the book. Ember chewed her bottom lip uneasily.

"Someone is prying in places they aren't meant to be," I stated, forcing my voice to remain even. I scowled at Ember who actually stumbled back a step, as if my powerful gaze was in itself a hard shove to knock her down.

"Is what Drake says true?" she said softly. "You, you're a-a…"

"Freak?" I filled in, heavily emphasizing the k.

Ember worked hard to not pull her eyes away. "Why do you do it? To your own kind?"

I nestled my little book carefully, ensuring all pages were still intact. "My own _kind_? You act as if I'm less human than you." The intern's face showed that she thought just that.

Without another word, I sat in my chair, adjusting the cameras on our 16th Annual Mutant Games Arena. "What do you think of freaks, Ember?"

"Freaks, PJ?"

I rolled my eyes, not turning to face her. "You know what I'm getting at, girl. What do you think of freaks, mutties, mutants, mutts, honestly?"

Ember paused as she put the right words together. Her confusion and minor annoyance was blossoming through. "They're…different. I don't understand how someone like you could be…I mean, they're an intimidating bunch. Freaks are freaks. It's just not human."

"Now, intimidating?"

"Um, well," Ember faltered, her heels clicking back several steps. "You've seen what they could do. Some could tear the weaker tributes apart, limb by limb, or kill them with a stroke of your hand. And…like, knowing someone could be in your head, knowing what's going on in there. Have some greater force over you that you have no control in and no way to explain why it is…it's scary."

I corrected a camera that gave me the fuzziest angle. "So you fear mutants?"

She didn't reply. At least, not at first. The sound of the door swishing open faintly reached my ears was followed by Ember's heels striking the tile floor. Just beneath this, I heard, "Don't we all?"

The door was closed but I was still smiling. "Good to know."

_**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District 11**_

The last wisps of my dreams slipped away as a hand shook me awake, causing a surprised gasp to slide from my lips. I never quite remember my dreams, as if my mind marks them as unneeded information and deletes it from the vast storage of memories from my brain. I'm only left with mere shadows over my mind. I sit up and forced the hand on my shoulder off. It was too late to try to grab the vanishing strands. It was gone.

I don't pay much attention to the outfit my stylists hands me since it isn't my official arena wear. She'll dress me fully once I reach the Launch Room below the arena. My stomach churns nervously but I force the awful feelings off. I need to keep my heart calm, at a steady, even pace. Nothing helps; if anything, it races faster, pounding in my ears and squelching my insides in a sickening fashion.

Would it be possible for me to create some duplicate of myself to compete? They'll compete, living or dying, and I'd be fine here on the other side. I'd have to adapt to Capitol life or simply figure out some way back to District Eleven.

This is obviously not an appropriate response. Could I even live wholly if part of me were to die? No matter what plots I could possibly think up, the only possible and sensible solution was to face the situation head on. My first plan was to grab something from the Cornucopia and clear out but the Careers were awfully scary this year. The little girl probably got to me the most. You can't be sure if she's some psychopath who will easily slit your throat and swirl pretty finger-paint flowers into your skin from the blood seeping out or just an innocent little girl who sees nothing wrong in her situation.

…Did I really just think that about the flowers? Dammit, Chrys, don't get into that mindset.

Before long, I'm boarded onto a hovercraft, strapped in. Any plans of escape were void now. My heartbeat increases further as my eyes rest on the large needle poised to jab my arm. I cringe and bite my tongue for the moment it pierces skin and the tracker is placed. It's as if it were molding to my skin and arteries, that little piece of metal set on never leaving. I questioned how it'd manage to track me when I was in two or three or more but figured it would duplicate as I did.

My mind wanders off to Lupe for a moment and I spare a moment on my partner. We didn't have any special connection and if it came down to it, would kill each other easily. The only thing about it that brings any form of a smile to my face is the prospect of him arguing with his stylist about his top hat and playing cards. He'd manage to somehow pull one out of his ass for all I know. The boy is born for the Games; the grandest show for a showman of his caliber, he'll have a field day.

I found it hard to draw breath. I'd be kidding myself if I assumed it to be from the altitude. Around me, the hovercraft began to descend.

You need to think straight, I chided myself. Stop lollygagging. There's work to be done. Hard to avoid all the negative thoughts, though, when you knew you could be dead in the next hour. These could be the last moments of my life. What would I pass on remembering? A large needle, over sanitized people, and a cold metal room. And can't look past the blow of my killer.

But, this possible can't happen. I have to win. I have to live. My life hasn't exactly been productive, despite the endless clubs and school activities I ran and volunteer hours with the district. None of it was exactly remarkable work, nothing that ever earned me recognition. All I've ever wanted is to know someone is thankful what I did, that I did something right and worth something in this world. Isn't that all anyone ever wants? To leave some mark or legacy of themselves on the world?

My thoughts were so clouded; I've barely realized I'm walking through the tunnels until I've stepped into my final chamber before heading into the actual arena. Focus, Chrys, you need to win.

My stylist quickly changes me into my next outfit and I pull on each article slowly, carefully examining the fabric. I couldn't guess where these designs came from. The top was a thin, fitted short-sleeved shirt with a long-sleeved cardigan over it. I set my mind to following tasks to keep busy, ensuring I fasten each button, including that on my Capri pants that reached just below my navel. These were a navy blue color and it was all so pristine, I actually worried for a second about dirtying them. The stylist pulled my dark brown hair back in a braid.

"It goes with the theme of the arena," she explained, noting my confused expression. "The pants are called pedal pushers, it's from the era." What possible era?

My frown deepened as I laced up the black and white shoes. "Those are saddle shoes." I shook my head. The woman laughed, not an ounce of humor in the sound. "Be thankful I swiped the pant option. Some stylists went overboard, all for the poodle skirts. The younger girls are wearing those. They're not hard to run in, just a real pain in the ass, especially if you needed to hide."

I nodded and the woman held me out at arm's length to examine me. "You ready?"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked.

The stylist shrugged. "Good point." She was then given the signal to get me set up on my platform. We weren't exactly close and nothing hug worthy. She wasn't a touchy feely sort of person, my stylist.

"Good luck," she whispered. "May the odds be ever in your favor." I shifted my weight on my feet from one to the other. I nodded curtly one last time.

The glass slid in place and up I went.

**So you guys probably have some accurate guesses on the arena already. You should know I'm practically drawing out a map for it.**


	24. Games: Bloodbath in Suburbia

**I love reviews. Because, you can always get one where you go, "HOLY CRAP, THAT'S BRILLIANT!" Your mind, as an author, then starts rolling with this idea and finally gets some random new creation.**

**And, uh, please take all deaths with understanding. There are various factors that go into how I choose my bloodbaths. I take in to consideration the first poll and your comments throughout, plus my own little plot ideas and some eenie-meenie variants.**

_**Silvia Arbres, District 7**_

The outfit confused me up until the first glimpse of the arena came into sight. The skirt part of the dress brushed by my knees and I breathed deeply as cool air struck my face. The temperature was comfortable; cool enough to walk around wearing a sweater, but warm enough that you could pass in a sleeveless stole. A faint fragrance of freshly mown grass and a barbeque fire hung around and I focused on the surroundings.

First, and most daunting, had to be the glistening Cornucopia dead center of our asphalt road. Patches of other supplies were scattered about and my eyes slid to the other tributes nervously glancing about. Beside me, the Career boy from Four was already poised to run while the boy on the left of me who I think was named Robin mumbled, "Fuck," beneath his breath. They both wore straight legged jeans, Robin's cuffed to a little above his ankle, and simple saddle shoes.

My attention was pulled away quickly as I became accustomed to what else my environment had to offer. The tributes all wore the similar, old-style fashion and we stood at an equal distance from the Cornucopia in a traditional arrangement. Our metal plates were built on a sidewalk, and I saw we were actually on a cul-de-sac that led off into a central road. Past the sidewalk were houses, many of them behind white picket fences. Each had a neat little mailbox painted with a number and neat little gardens, a select few with shining cars in the driveway. The homes were plain aesthetically, minor variances to differentiate them.

I focused on the garden once again. Dirt and plants. Yes, thank goodness! The relief swelled up in me. There weren't too many trees but there were enough that one random new one wouldn't be of great notice. All I needed to do was find some cover and root myself down when no one was watching. Amongst the trees and grass, I'm safe! I don't even need to kid myself about my odds. I actually stand a chance.

The small smile that had formed on my face from this realization cleared as the official gong sounded. Tributes went off running. Photosynthesis was on my side and my roots would make for weapons. Hopping off my platform, I ran the fastest I ever could remember I ever had through down the sidewalk path before twisting around and up a driveway to the backyard. The sounds of screams and combat carried on from behind me but I didn't think to look back once. I kept running.

_**Annabelle Hallestar, District 10**_

_When the gong sounds, release the lights. When the gong sounds, release the lights. When the gong sounds, release the lights._

"_You got that, Anna?" Brandy said, patting my shoulder and grinning down at me._

"_My name is Annabelle," I corrected. Brandy's smile tightened and she bit down on her tongue._

"_It's a nickname, honey," I liked that term of endearment; my sister uses the same sort of words, "I know your name is Annabelle. But you understand what I said, right? You need to release that little knack of yours."_

_I blinked and nodded, only to scrunch my eyebrows up nervously. "But, what if they go off? They'll hurt people." Brandy's face contorted into something awfully vicious. It dawned on me then. "Oh, that's what you want me to do."_

_She nodded. "When the gong goes off, you let those little lights off and run away. We'll meet up afterwards. Got it?" She stroked my short black curly strands of hair, her amber eyes gazing at me earnestly._

"_Got it."_

I glanced to Brandy who stood about ten metal plates off to my right. She gave me a thumbs up, nervously wiping her sweating palms off on her pants that weren't quite shorts but weren't quite pants.

"Got it," I whispered. I raised my hands up above my head. The little blue lights stayed in the middle of my hand and I waited patiently as the time counted down.

It came. While some of the tributes sprinted forward, others back, I blew out a large breath of air and freed my little lights. Up, up they went.

"_You let those little lights off and run away."_

Run away.

Some of my little lights floated high, while others decided to mingle with the tributes. They were just so pretty. I knew, though, that once they landed, they'll only cause a great deal of chaos. I sucked in a worried breath as I caught sight of Brandy, diving in and snatching a bag from Hydran's hands so sneakily. He shouted back something, shooting some yogurt, but finally gave up and headed to the center of the action.

"…_run away."_

Oh, right, run away! Spinning around, I followed Brandy's instructions. She was no longer where I had first seen her but that doesn't matter. She told me to run. So run I did.

_**Hydran Ash, District 10**_

Huh. You know, you never realize how quite royally fucked you are until you see all twenty five other competitors standing around you. My one ally was all the way over there (which is far from my perspective) and there's shiny weapons right there in the even shinier Cornucopia. Even worse, we're sitting in classic suburbs. There's a reason I live in District Ten, alright, it's because I'm oppressed by the Capitol and can't move anywhere else, my parents were born there, but most importantly, it's mainly rural country with big gaps of space between each house. This, no, this is all close and compact. At least there are cars. I wonder if I can take one for a joy ride.

I tugged at the stiff fabric of my Level jeans (that's what they were called, right?) and was taken off guard when the gong rang out. Ah, shit, it's starting. It's already starting. Okay, right now, best bet was to run somewhere. There's all the shiny shit, let's check that out. Paying closer attention, I saw little blue orbs of light floating through the breeze as well.

I hopped off and sprinted forward to a jumble of pretty useless looking crap. The only thing that looked decent was a knapsack that swung over one shoulder but as I picked it up, another girl slammed into me, snatching it, and took off down the road.

"Yo, that was mine!" I shouted back at her trailing sandy blonde hair. She glanced back once and a wicked light gleamed in her amber eyes. But, raising to the sky and watching those odd little orbs, they showed the worry beneath the surface and she took off at twice the pace. I shot a stream of low-fat yogurt that missed completely. I grumbled beneath my breath, running on again. The big scary tributes already had weapons and I watched as the Dragon Breath girl bounded onto the dark-haired female of District Thirteen. The girl wriggled beneath Dragon Breath and vanished. Literally, vanished in a blink of an eye. But, it seemed, it doesn't matter if you can be seen or not; when someone lights your ass on fire, you'll be burning.

The thing that came back into sight was not the girl from Thirteen anymore, because her flesh was completely burned. Horrified screams made me cringe and I was almost relieved as her attacker finished her with a blade through the heart. I continued on past some other battling tributes (which involved tons of battle crying and yogurt shooting, from me, not the other tributes) to the heart of the golden structure. Right there, atop of the Cornucopia was…hey, it's Poise! The sweet looking girl dodged the oncoming swarm of small little fairy things and flipped down onto the ground as they began nipping and biting. Okay, any possibility of a flyswatter in here.

For a moment, I couldn't bring in air as I was yanked up into the air by my collar. I kicked and flailed at the District Four guy and glanced over to Poise. She had a bag slung over her shoulder with a blow dart in one hand.

"Poise!" I called. "Ninja assistance needed!"

Her strawberry blonde head twirled about to see me, a kneejerk reaction to hearing her name. To my astonishment, she not only didn't head back towards me but continued in her opposite direction. That little monkey of a bitch! I mean, little bitch of a monkey!

"Poise! Chick from District Nine!" I shouted, kicking the air in frustration. But even as I watched, I saw one of the little blue orbs come down and land by her feet. The blast of white light blinded me for a moment and small specks of tarmac smacked my face. I wasn't even sure where Poise was. Just that she was here and there and over there and…the one person who was to possibly save me was dead. Even if she had already dumped my ass, I say a firm 'Fuck' would suffice to the situation.

Four had a little smile on his face as he dropped me back down. Tributes hobbled away from the massive explosion, some ducking out of the way as another little orb came down. One boy, holy fuck, the ginger, didn't realize this and after another quaking rumble, he vaporized as well. The sting of metal flicking past the back of my neck brought out a pained cry. I flipped over on my back and squirted two streams up at his face from my palms, hoping the bastard was lactose intolerant. Four sloshed through and stomped down on my stomach. Air forced its way out like I was balloon so easily being popped. Wasn't this the nice guy?

A long sword planted itself by my head, skimming my neck actually. Warmth dripped down along my skin and a weird feeling twisted my gut. Well, fuck duh, it's fear. Fear for what exactly? I'm going to die. I was going to die a horrible death. Dear god, I'm dying a virgin! The only girl I ever kissed slapped me. I'll never know if Beyonce's baby was a boy or a girl! Wait, she already had the baby, it was a girl.

The curved sword pressed firmly into my flesh. The guy laughed-fucking laughed!-and I was left jerking uselessly about. It dragged along my throat, so exposed to the killer, and I coughed for breath. His foot released and my hands flew up to my bleeding neck. I tried to inhale air but none came, just gooey liquid. My bloody palms faded in my vision and I smacked down on the ground, blacking out with no possibility of waking up again.

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

The voices were strong in the arena.

The moment I surfaced, the slammed into me hard, crying and clawing and begging for my attention. I sank to my knees, pounding my temples with the heel of my hands as the barrage of words and pleads came in. The voices were very minimal while in the Training Center, actually allowing me to get some training in. But I only realize now where the true ache and wear of the Games lay; in the arena. Certainly, the tributes didn't actually die here. They died in some other arena that is now viewed by tourists.

Yet, they were here, in my head. Gazing up at the Cornucopia, I wasn't even sure what I was looking at. It could have been actually happening but could be memories being played out by the dead. One kid's head flew across the path one moment. I blinked and it was now a girl being blown apart. Blink again, a vicious Career sat atop of a boy, having a grand ole time digging her knife into his limbs making deeper incisions to her glee. I wheezed rapidly, unable to receive a sufficient amount of oxygen.

_Let us in. Let us be together, be one whole._

The single voice was speaking out again. It had quieted over the past week but it was back, stronger than ever now with new followers. They pried at my mind, driving their claws down and working laboriously to tear it open. My fingernails burrowed into my thighs painfully but the voices were demanding to be heard.

My vision spun out, haywire and fuzzy. Through the veil laid so heavily over my eyes, a blue light floated in sight. I feared I'd absolutely lose it if I wavered even slightly, so remained stock still as it drifted closer.

A hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me back off my platform. I looked back and saw a figure wavering over me, hazel eyes drilling down.

"Are you cruisin' for a bruisin', girl?" he barked. The guy jerked his head back in confusion. "What the fuck just came out of my mouth?"

I gaped at him and he glanced up to the Cornucopia. "We gotta cut it, Dolly." He paused again as he reflected on his words. Despite this break, he tugged me along with even greater urgency.

"Who are you?"

"Well, by what I see, I'm the friendliest person here so let's have you run away and I'll explain later." The little orb struck ground and I was blasted up into the air. I skidded along pavement but despite my torn skin and the taste of blood in my mouth, I was alive. Glancing back, the place I had originally stood was now a depression in the ground. The guy who had saved me…

Gone. I looked around, but he was most definitely gone. Where had I seen him before?

Gathering myself up, I climbed to my feet and took off, passing through two backyards and coming out onto another street. I kept running, running until I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my heart and drum of my feet. And, oh, of course, the voices.

_**Bree Maysee, District 4**_

Games, Games, beautiful Games. I spared a moment, a particularly shiny and principally sharpened trident in hand, to glance around the area. The other tributes were so pathetically fighting amongst each other and I'm pretty sure I saw a cat running through people's feet. Everyone scattered pretty fast when these little balls of light started floating in. _Bam! Bam!_ There were at least two kids gone in a blink of an eye, the climber from Nine and ginger from Six, pieces scattered about, as the orbs landed. I ducked in the nick of time as one floated by my head. It sent my ears ringing and leaving me somewhat dazed.

Sandy was going to town on some fourteen year old and Foe gruffly tossed aside a burned corpse. In a spider monkey-like fashion, she twirled around, hopping on the back of another tribute. Foe's dagger got a good slice in his arm but he tossed her off like a sack of flower. The District Two girl barely dodged the hastily thrown swing of an axe before the District Seven kid ran off.

I climbed back to my feet, carefully scanning the sky for any more of the lights. The trident was still firm in my grip and as I rose, a small smile crossed my lips. She was so desperately searching the bags; the girl forgot to watch her back

I snatched the younger girl's arm and spun her to face me. The intense scowl could not hide the fear in her brown eyes and I pressed one of the tipped prongs of the trident into the soft flesh beneath her neck. Her chin rose up to avoid its touch. Warm breath tickled my face.

"Happy Mutant Games," I snickered. In her hand, the thirteen year old only had a mere knife, not even one meant for killing. I imagined her bringing it up and stabbing it in her own eye and I grinned gleefully at the thought. Her tiny muscles tensed around it and brought the trident down.

Yet, she defied my control. Instead, she spat right in my own eye and sprinted away. I grunted in disgust, wiping the slime from my skin and glaring in her direction. There was almost no one left. The girl that just slipped away, I watched, smash into another fleeing tribute. She knocked this tribute over, stumbling but able to continue on. Finding my only open chance of redemption, I sprang forward, stabbing the trident through the soft area behind the fallen person's knee. She screamed in pain.

That scream…I know that scream.

I wasn't going to waste valuable time for this one. Ripping the trident out, I pinned the District Eight girl by slamming the prongs down beside her neck. There was enough space between them to fit such a thin elegant neck like hers, but with some scarring and cutting. She jerked up to all four and tried to rise but I easily outmatched her strength.

"Come on, fight! You can get up!" She bucked wildly. I stood and drove my foot down into Heather's back.

"Please," she whimpered. "Stop." Heather wriggled her neck, only cutting a wider opening in the cuts.

"What?" I said, leaning in. "Stop? Why, if you stay so." I ripped the trident up and laughing wickedly, drove it back down. Heather screamed one last time.

Blood stained the cement below my feet, seeping over to my shoes. I jerked my weapon up and Heather's chest rose and fell for the last time.

"Huh," Balthy said, so conveniently deciding to show up now. He kneeled beside the dead girl and examined her. "What emotion is going through you right now?"

This guy better be fucking with me. But…he was so serious that I gave him a serious response. "I feel like killing something else."

Serious for me at least.

**All names in bold are alive. All those in **normal print **are not. The **_italics _**next to the dead are cause of death and **normal print **next to the living ones are allies. Understood?**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five<br>Lauryn Rivera, District Six  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Silvia Arbres, District Seven<br>Cede Demeter, District Seven  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight_(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight <strong>–(Lupe, Xavier)**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine<br>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten **–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten_(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven<br>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven **–(Bro)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen_(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen <strong>–(Bro)

**The Games have officially…begun!**


	25. Day One: Kumbaya

**Ah, bloodbath is over; who's still with me? Show of hands?**

**I was on the computer all day Saturday. Got absolutely nothing accomplished.**

"_**Alix Estelle", District 9**_

Run, that's all I had to do. Run until I couldn't run then find some burst of energy and run some more. The main goal was to put as much space between me and everyone else as I possibly could. My jeans began to roll down from their curled position and my foot stepped directly onto my shoelace. I was propelled forward and skidded along the blacktop below. Air heaved in my lungs and I laid there panting as oxygen worked its way through me.

You have to keep running. Keep running for Alix. He needs you. The only way to help him was to get up and keep running.

My skin was scraped raw and I examined the burn on the inside of my arm. Alix had perfected the art of his burns. He accidentally killed a doctor once with it, planted a burn right on the surface of his brain. This was on the lower end of Alix's disease, when he had no control of anything. Couldn't eat properly, couldn't use the bathroom, and couldn't control his burning. He doesn't remember doing it. No one ever told him. It was better that he didn't.

Alix had a big family. When one more kid somehow joined their midst, no one thought twice about it. There is a ton of those Estelle's. From oldest to youngest, ages ranging from twenty-three to six, there's Vincent, Helena, Troy, Achilles, Willow, Norris, Alix, Percival, Harley, and Gerard, plus me, sandwiched in amongst them, a glad addition to the group. And as of a week ago, Alan, Alix's twin brother. Alan doesn't exist, though. There had and never will be an Alan Estelle.

Alix was dying. He was close to it. Terminal, the proper term. Alix was dying and there was no possible way to stop it.

But there was a way to save him now. To give him that extra time to live, may it be a few weeks or a few extended months. I was able to give him that time. I could give him more; get the money needed for the doctors. All I had to do was win….

I laughed at the thought. All I had to do was to win. As if that was the simplest plan to ever be thought up by a person. Winning was obviously a little more complicated than just that. I'm fourteen years old, in the young spectrum. The fact I'm not even supposed to be a tribute hung over my head as well. What if I'm found out? What will happen to me? The real Alix? Will the Capitol go after all of Alix's family?

The only possible thing I could do right now was push it to the back of my mind. I'm losing my lead. The sounds of cannons cause my lungs to constrict, and I listen on how many ring out. One, two…five. Five tributes dead. Twenty-one still playing. Twenty more to die. The Games had become interesting now. Who would be dead? None of the Careers, I'd assume. Even that twelve year old…Alice…her name just had to be Alice….Is Poise dead? That weird boy she allied with dead? I didn't stick around for that bloodbath. I guess I'll find out tonight. If I actually make it that long.

I had run far out from the neighborhood area and found a shopping center. It was abandoned except for a few stray cars, shining pristinely under the sun. I examined my hands for a moment, laying one on the heated metal surface the car door. In its dark exterior, Alix's face blinked at me. It was like how he was when he was okay, when he wasn't sick. I stroked the reflection of his eyes, thinking of their deep blues. They had paled with his disease but still held some bit of their original life and curiosity. He was my best friend. He still is my best friend.

The first tears begin to blur my vision when a flurry of movement darted past. I sank down behind the machine, peering over the side. A girl sprinted by, her dress rustling as she ran. For a moment, she stopped, heaving in breaths and glancing nervously around her. A soft sound spun her attention around and she wielded an actually lethal looking tree branch. A cat trotted up to her feet, mewing. Suddenly, it began to grow and the cat was no longer a cat but a dark-haired boy. The girl lowered her branch but the boy collapsed down onto his knees. The girl knelt beside him and the exchanged a quick conversation. I noted the boy's bleeding thigh and the hesitant way he pressed his hand to it.

He shrunk down into a cat again and the girl scooped him up, draping his kitty body over her shoulder. She jogged at a slower pace, the boy-cat tribute bobbing as she ran. I must have looped around at some point, unconsciously, if I'm so close to bloodbath casualties. I need to make camp somewhere with something and find food. More importantly, I need water. Would the houses be giving out water so easily? I should check one when I cross into the neighborhoods again.

I brush back my hair and frown for a moment. Of course it's shorter. It's Alix's hair. Not yours, Al.

Retying my shoelaces and fixing my jeans, I headed on to the supermarket, smack in the center of the shopping center. The doors opened as I approached, much to my astonishment. I glanced one last time back behind me before stepping into the building.

_**Robin Garven, District 12**_

Day one, it is agreed that it involves too much running. Not like we're going to join hands and sing kumbaya in a peaceful circle.

_Kumbaya…_

Dude, shut up and let me think for once and allow the readers to get a better insight on me. They already thinking I'm the sucky personality in this ship. I want people to actually like me, you know, send us sponsor gifts.

_How about you simply humor them with your lack of witty dialogue and my doting charm?_

Is it possible to punch oneself without hurting oneself? I resisted the urge to march up to the nearest house and slam my head into the side of it. Although, a scuffle of feet caused me to swing my head around and I catch sight of tributes heading where but in my direction. Look at that, scary weapons and pointy things in their hands. And a fucking unicorn. I'm looking at that right, am I?

I stared at the District Four chick, thinking about how she chopped up that girl with the curls. I watched her die. Watched one girl kill another. She did it so viciously, it was just so sick.

For a second, the Eight girl had locked her gaze on me. I felt myself being drawn in, tugged away out of my body. I should have been running, running really fast, far away. But I couldn't pull myself off and no matter how tight I held on, my fingers were being pried off the carcass of my body. She was the body switcher, I realized.

I think we would have changed completely if it wasn't for Damion. While my soul dangled there in the air, I felt Damion yank me back in. His spirit was just so much stronger. The girl's eyes pleaded desperately with me one last time, screaming, before they glazed blankly over, unresponsive. Damion had the energy to save my soul from ending up over as that girl. He basically saved my life. If it had been some other sap, the District Eight girl would probably be alive and well as someone else.

_There are already enough voices in this head, _Damion said. _I don't need another person nagging at me._

I shook my head, clearing the memory. We were allies, even if there wasn't exactly a choice in the matter. I blinked over at the unicorn again. That was a unicorn, right?

_Depends; are you certain it is a unicorn and not a horse with a horn attached? Possibly Sarah Jessica Parker?_

Dame, that's a horrible joke. I would at least expect something more original from you. And she did a phenomenal job in Sex and the City.

Damion's snort of laughter made me flush the tiniest bit red. The vain in my neck pulsated angrily and I sank low behind the set of hedges, peeking through it to watch the group. The little girl giggled as she skipped about, ribbons of glitter falling about her from two fairies circling overhead. She gave her skirt a girlish shake and continued laughing beneath her breath. The girl from Four glared at her but the others glanced passively. The dude with four arms actually followed along with her childish demands.

_The Games are getting to us, Rob, _Damion said harshly. Despite being unheard in my head, he spoke in a low tone._ I am being kind and choosing not to mock and or ridicule you, just this once, since we may just die in the next ten seconds if you don't move our ass. _The humor was evident in his tone, but also was his urgency. I edged away, my foot trudging right over an unsuspecting garden gnome. Damion's groan brought a scowl to my face, but my attention was focused on the Careers. The girl, I think her name was Foe, jerked her head about at the sound. I ducked my head, forcing myself to breathe softer. This only made it so painstakingly louder and I just held in the air.

"Did you hear that?" she said. They all stopped and I believe I was gradually becoming blue. I puffed out the breath and sucked in a quick new one. This only caused the group to glance amongst themselves.

Hey, Dame, you can take control if you want. I'm fine with that.

For once, my twin brother remained silent. The one time I'd actually be accepting of a rude comment.

There was some arguing, when Two shouted, "Fine, I'll go check it." I gulped as she pulled one of the pointy weapons from a scabbard at her hip. I gnawed on my lip, shuffling my feet around to a better position to get up to run. I only succeeded in tripping backwards on my butt.

The sound of Foe's feet pounding pavement matched the rhythm of my racing heart. Best chance was to try to run and hope the Careers don't kill me as I flee.

The chance was taken away as Foe appeared above me, having launched herself over the short hedge. I threw my hands up protectively to guard my face and watched as she blew down a cascade of flames from her mouth. Their angry tails flicked my skin, its warmth sinking in.

Thankfully, I'm the fireproof kid from District Twelve.

Wasn't explained quite clearly that; while Damion has those scary shadow limbs, I got balls of fire. Yeah. But it makes me fireproof. We can't use each other's abilities and the only active mutation is that of who's in control.

The flames wrapped around me and my clothes proved themselves to be quite flammable. But I myself was fine. I rose to my feet and Foe, rolling and landing in a fighting position, scrutinized me with a confused furrow of her brow. Her eyes glistened with recognition as I set my palms ablaze. A small mass, about three inches in height, but fire still. I chucked the one in my right hand at Foe and the other I threw blindly onto the hedge. The fireball slammed squarely into Foe's chest and she screamed in pain. She dropped her sword and swatted the flames to extinguish them. An arrow whistled by my head and buried itself into the house.

_This is when you run._

Snatching Foe's sword, I sprinted through to the backyard. I threw flames at the most flammable things I could spot, hiding my path in smoke.

_See, you didn't need me to be in control._

You could have at least prepped me or something for that.

_I wasn't expecting the whole ninja leap over the hedge. But hey, think about it, you got an arch rival now. Fire user against fire breather. Ain't that dandy?_

You're just mad I got to be the saver this time around.

Damion snorted but I grinned. Robin, one, Damion…a lot more than that. But I finally got one, so ha!

_**Shale Van Newhouse, District 2**_

I powered up, feeling myself grow out as my skin rose up as stone. Swinging the club I found in the Cornucopia up over my shoulder, I pounded forward. Beyond the flames, I heard Foe's pained coughs. She can breathe fire yet can't take a hit from it? Damn, that sucks.

The fact there was no cannon proved Balthy's arrow did little to kill the kid who had been hiding. He was probably from District Twelve. I don't remember him being able to chuck fire at people, though. The kid had a few loose screws. Bree mentioned how she heard him mumbling to himself.

Smashing the flaming bushes, I pounded through and snatched up a limp Foe. She moaned, pressing her hands into the large burn in the center of her chest. I awkwardly tried to pat out a few remaining flames but even half conscious, it was an area in which Foe felt compelled to reach out and slap me. Less gently, I stomped through the bushes again, over to our group.

"Ouch," Alice Lynn voiced, cringing at the sight of the blistering skin. Bree wrinkled her nose as she peeked over our shoulders and I couldn't help but note the sly smirk on her face.

"Who'd have thought the girl who played with fire would get burned?" she snickered. I smacked her with the back of my hand, bringing a satisfying cringe to her features. Sandy kneeled beside her.

"We need to find some water," he stated. "First way to treat a burn, run it under cool water."

"That'd help," Foe finally said. Balthy peered curiously at her burn.

"This should easily be a level four burn, extending through the epidermis and the subcutaneous tissue into the underlying muscle and bone. It shouldn't be so incredibly painful. It seems Foe has some resistance to burns in general but not completely. It's possibly a level two burn," he stroked the skin, "yeah, pretty sure it's a level two but untreated can become a level three."

Before I could possibly guess at what the fuck an epidermis was, Foe groaned again, swatting Balthy back. "Just get me the goddamn water. You," she pointed to Sandy, "use your magical District Four water sensing and get water. Now."

Bree rolled her eyes and Alice Lynn kneeled beside Foe. She stroked her pin-straight hair, cooing softly. Her nervous rabbit hopped about and scratched at our ally's leg, muttering beneath its breath. All of us still found them awkward but were too afraid of Alice's reaction to mention it. They were still pretty creepy.

We decided to make camp on the lawn of one of the houses, right across the street from the burning one. Balthy and Sandy went off to hunt for water. You'd think that there'd be plenty of it in the houses around us.

Alice Lynn laid Foe's head into her lap and sang a lullaby to her. The words weren't in key but were adorable none the less. I drifted to the sounds and I shrunk back into my usual skin, spreading out along the grass.

"…Here it's safe, here it's warm. Here the daises guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true. Here's the place where I love-"

"Isn't that some rebel song?" Bree interrupted. I sat up at these words.

Alice scrunched her eyebrows up, confused. "It's a pretty song about a meadow."

Bree glanced around; looking as if she were worried some Peacekeeper would pop out of nowhere and slap us with some fine. "Yeah, but that's the Katniss Everdeen song. Stop singing it. You'll get us killed."

Alice stuck out her bottom lip. "I'll sing whatever I want to sing." She sucked in a breath of air, singing even louder. "DEEP IN THE MEADOW, HIDDEN FAR AWAY! A CLOAK OF LEAVES, A MOONBEAM RAY! FOR-"

The younger girl was cut short as Bree pressed the tips of her trident to Alice Lynn's neck. She blinked curiously at the shaft, like the sight didn't quite make sense. "I said to shut it."

Suddenly, Bree jerked backwards and grunted in pain. The omnipresent fairies nipped at her skin and ears forcing her away from Alice. The petite girl scowled harrowingly, patting Foe's forehead one last time. Foe's dark gaze caught mine and we exchanged a questioning look.

"You guys can stop now," she called off. The fairies vanished. Bree held in the shallow cuts bleeding from the various spots on the surface of her skin. She scowled intensely, giving the deepest stank look I've ever seen.

Alice Lynn sat, crisscross, and ignored Bree, as if she had said nothing. Was Alice Lynn really some innocent little girl? Was she more maniacal that we first thought?

By Foe's look, it was agreed that she was simply insane.

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five<br>Lauryn Rivera, District Six  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Silvia Arbres, District Seven<br>Cede Demeter, District Seven  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight <strong>–(Lupe, Xavier)**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine<br>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten **–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten_(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven<br>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven **–(Bro)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen <strong>–(Bro)

**I'm freaking out. For those who follow Tears of Blood, Quarter Quell try-outs have begun! I think I'll leave a link on my profile. I'm guaranteed a spot do to unfairness pressed against my character in the last Games. It'd be awesome to work with you guys.**

**There's also a poll up. Go vote! Go try-out! **


	26. End of Day One: Brotrayal

**Poll is up! Check it out, five choices this time.**

**I feel happy; I managed to write an Alix POV without confusing all of you. I'm halfway to my goal of 600 reviews too!**

_**Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District 8**_

Lupe grumbled beneath his breath, ruffling up his hair and constantly running his hand through the light brown strands. He groaned, looking ready to bash his head into something. I silently hoped he would, since it would stop this slight predicament occurring. I managed to meet up with Xavier, hide out for the early part of the morning with him in a house. Hearing some scuffling outside, I told him to stay put and not to move until I came back. That was probably six hours ago. Xavier was a little wacky but it could only buy me so much time.

"I sort of wish I was in last year's Games. Their costumes came with top hats and I may go nuts if I don't find one soon. I could possibly get it in a sponsor gift like that one girl did with that beret that one year…"

"How about we split?" I suggested. "We'll cover more ground and be able to scout out the area better." Lupe raised a curious eyebrow, reviewing the suggestion.

"Not sure about that…" he said.

"It'll be fine. Circle around and meet back here in two hours, before the death count."

He blinked, gradually nodding. "Alright. But be here, or I'm leaving without you."

I grinned. "Fine. I'll go this way," I jerked my thumb to my left and jutted my chin over in the indicated direction. I pointed my finger the other way. "You go-"

Looking around, I saw he was already gone, not even an impression in the grass of where he stood. Strange fellow. But it is the Mutant Games.

The houses stood still, not even a breeze whistling through the trees. The weather was perfect, if not a bit chilly. I brought my jacket up closer around me. The girls must be having a horrible time with those short sleeved dresses and thin sweaters. Not my problem.

I glance about, double and triple checking that no one was around. I had looped back around enough to be able to find Lupe and make my way off in Xavier's direction. It took plenty of running, and I moved at a much slower pace this time around. Xavier would be right where I left him, probably singing some song to keep himself busy. Could he have figured out my plans? That I was actually with Lupe? What were my plans, exactly? Stay alive, but what else? I need to keep Lupe and Xavier around as long as I can to watch my back that was certain. Like my pals back home, Carlos and Alrondra. They knew exactly how to step in when a scam got messy.

If I could get Lupe and Xavier to kill each other off, that'd be great too. But, how? I can't just say, "Hey, look, that kid is going to kill you, ah!" I tugged my jacket closer around me, a little stiff from taking a _Ping_. It acted like armor now, not perfectly, but it sufficed.

This road ran parallel to the main cul-de-sac, about three blocks over to the west. If you kept moving north, you'd reach a shopping center, by what Lupe has reported on, and he wasn't sure of what was beyond that. I glanced one last time over my shoulder before heading up the driveway of the house Xavier and I took refuge in. Right now, it was only Xavier.

I hadn't even reached the door when I heard his obnoxious voice, so loudly going on and on. I cringed, ducking low and easing open the wooden door, hardening it before I closed it completely. Xavier didn't look my way, instead continuing on. Could he be any louder? He's waking the dead! I'm surprised his cannon hadn't fired earlier. Someone could be right around the corner, planning when to stride in and slit his throat. And now I'm in here! I need to shut him up before that, before someone comes and kills us off.

"Let's rock! Everybody, let's rock! Everybody in the whole cell block was dancin' to the jailhouse rock!"

I realized a portion of the sound came from a small radio perched up on the mantel over the fireplace. Its sound warbled through the living room and Xavier's voice sang along, off-key. His hair was somehow slicked back and he danced around with a mannequin in his arms, twirling around and around. He dipped it low, as if serenading to it.

"Number forty-seven said to number three, you're the cutest jailbird I ever did see. I sure would be delighted with your company, come on and do the jailhouse rock with me. Let's rock!"

Xavier spun the plastic person around. Catching sight of me, it slipped from his fingers, tumbling lamely to the floor by his feet. The boy, so hard to believe he was the same age as me, raised his hands in a fighting position.

"Oh," he breathed, standing straight. "Sorry, you caught me off guard."

"Yuh huh," I said, sticking my hands in the pockets. My fingers traced over the small blade in my pocket, a last resort tool.

"So, uh, you're not dead," Xavier stated, lifting the person back up. His eyebrow rose up curiously and I raised one back at him.

Fuck, right, I was checking out a strange noise. "There was a squirrel family in one of the trees outside," I lied. "Then it turned to be a rabid mutt and I was running for a while. Ended up running into another tribute and the family chased after them. I got so lost coming back, managed to swipe myself some stuff." I revealed my blade to prove this.

Xavier nodded and collapsed back into the couch. "It's nearly dark."

"No, really," I muttered, slowly sighing with relief. He took the bait. Lupe wasn't as dumb as him, though, so I'd have to slip sometime in the middle of the night. Or in the midst of one of Xavier's songs.

He picked at one of his makeshift bandages, dried a brownish color from the hours untouched. He had earned a few scratches in the bloodbath but nothing that hindered his abilities. In turn, he had a pack sitting neatly at his feet and a katana and ninja stars. I'm positive he doesn't even know how to use the ninja stars.

"Those things suck," I indicated the stars he fiddled with now. "You won't kill anyone with those."

Xavier pouted. In a second, his face shifted into bony features with a beak-ish nose and huge gray eyes. Not someone you'd seem to trust, not at first, but he flashed a warm, winning smile, cocking his head to the side. "You won't kill anyone with those," he mimicked.

"You're such a child." I wanted to slap myself. Don't piss the man-child off.

He shrugged. "Whatever. Hey, is there any food in the kitchen?"

This cut off the next comment on my tongue and snapped my mouth shut. "Fine. Don't move."

"Wasn't planning to," Xavier said. He flipped upside-down on the couch, his short brown curls hanging off the edge. He hummed beneath his breath, using his stomach as a drum beat. Strange, strange boy.

I strode through the entryway to the kitchen. Pastel yellow with an island, I rifled through the drawers and their contents, searching for anything of any use. Boxes were soon strewn across the floor, completely empty of any food. It bothered me as I continued, an annoyed line creasing my face. What kind of kitchen doesn't have kitchen stuff in it?

"Find anything useful, Bro?"

I slammed my head under the counter as I jerked my head up at the sound. That voice was most definitely not Xavier's. That means…

Lupe smirked at the blade in my hand, amused. "Why, when were you going to tell me you were making camp?" His limbs dangled off the island's counter. He had seemingly popped out of nowhere.

How do I slip from this situation? "I found Xavier, managed to team up with him. I figured I'd tell you-"

"Oh, Bro," Lupe chuckled. "I figured out your plans a while ago. You should know I'm as much as a showman as yourself." From his sleeves, he pulled two knives from each side, expertly holding them between his fingers. I edged off to the exit, swiping out my own weapon.

"We can still be an alliance," I said. "It wasn't like-"

"You were planning to kill me? No, you weren't. You were hoping Xavier would do that. Or I would kill him, after you made it far enough." I restrained the urge to gape. How had he figured me out so easily? I thought I covered my tracks! "Nice plan, by the way."

I flinched as he tossed his first knife. It missed me, but snagged on my clothes and pinned my shoulder to the wall. At least, it was meant to. With my hardened clothes, it simply clattered to the tiles below, the sound echoing throughout the room. I snatched it up, wielding it threateningly. Lupe's face flashed with a scowl for a moment and he twirled the next blade through his fingers as he pondered his next actions.

A plan was already forming in my head. I flick the blade off to the side of his head, distract him enough to bang into the counter and fly in with my other knife. Just waver his attent-

Sharp pain sparked up in the back of my head, the soft part right above my neck. Cold radiated through my insides and warmth down my neck. Reaching back, I rubbed the sticky feeling of blood on my skin. My mind was already spinning.

"And you said they'd never come in handy," Xavier's cheeky voice commented. I turned to look at him and only realized my mistake when it was too late. Lupe dived in and his blade sank deep into my exposed throat.

_**Xavier Drascal, District 13**_

"And you said they'd never come in handy," I goaded. My voice still shivered nervously and it was hard to swallow. I killed someone. I just killed someone.

Lupe swept in, landing the final blow into Bro's neck. His voice had been so warm and comforting, like honey, and I couldn't help but note that this was the first to go. Even if he were to somehow miraculously survive, his vocal chords would be awfully messed up.

I flinched as his cannon sounded.

Lupe wrinkled his nose at the dirty work, not looking too good himself at killing someone. Still, he pulled a breath of air in through his nose, slowly, slowly, and released it at the same pace. Seeming to completely sink in, he smirked, collecting his weapons.

"Good work, Xavier," he stated. He leaned down and wiped the blade off on Bro's shirt. "I honestly thought he would slip away."

"Why didn't you mention were going to sneak in?" I inquired. So badly I tried to look away from the dead boy, but I couldn't help it. His blood seeped out across the wooden floor and I gingerly reached down and plucked my ninja star from his head. The red liquid glistening on its pointed tips made my stomach squirm.

"Because I knew you would have blown it," Lupe said.

"Hey," I frowned. "I resent that."

He raised an eyebrow. Lupe's hand went up, most likely to tug the rim of his top hat down, but it fumbled through the air. He clenched his teeth, mumbling about finding a hat soon. "Well, would you have been able to keep it a secret?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I still resent it."

…Was I the only one disturbed by the fact we were chatting so casually over a dead body?

"Maybe we should leave…?" I trailed off, unsure of how to continue. Were we allies? Or was this like a onetime thing?

"But first," Lupe said, holding his weapons in a Wolverine like fashion. "I will count to ten. If you aren't out of this building, I will chuck these knives at you."

Oh, wow, guess it was a onetime thing. "But, wait, what, why?"

Lupe shrugged. "It'll keep things interesting. Now, one-"

"Can't we, like, talk this over or something?"

"-two, three-"

I backed away, raising my hands defensively. "Come on, you could use an ally-"

"-four, five, six-"

I wasn't going to try any more of my luck. Spinning on my heel, I snatched my bag and sprinted out the door. Lupe's loud counting remained steady and I just ran and ran until all the blood had flooded to my head.

It probably didn't help I was shouting, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" the whole time. Huh. Hope no one heard me.

_**Neve Hadron, District 3**_

Delicately, I laid Leon down on the truck bed, ensuring he was safely down before I climbed on myself. The vehicle was parked behind the large screen in the drive-in movie, completely out of sight. I wouldn't have thought to look here if Leon didn't mew towards it.

Safe for the moment, I reclined back. The bed's ridges prodded my spine. It wasn't comfortable, but it'd do. My furry company morphed to a human shape which became a weary looking Leon. He, despite having been carried most of the day, breathed heavily. The gash in his thigh was getting to him.

I crept forward, gingerly prodding at his wound. Leon recoiled at my touch and his face scrunched up painfully. He released a breath from his nose. Finally he angled himself towards me to allow me to examine him.

"It doesn't look too bad, from what I can see." I tugged the jean fabrics' edges away to view the area around the cut. It was relatively shallow and most of it had clotted up already. It didn't reach the bone but sliced up a good bit of his leg. Leon grunted with noticeable pain but it wasn't absolutely unbearable.

"You'll live," I stated. My hands went to work, tearing a piece of fabric from my dress and wrapping it tight around his limb. "Just keep off it and keep it clean."

Leon nodded. "Do you have any water?"

I pressed my lips together, shaking my head. "None. The houses aren't giving water from the faucets either."

"There was a park by that school we passed," Leon said, sitting up. "There were some fountains there. Do you think there's water there?"

"We'll have to check," I said, mulling this over. Yes, thinking about it, I saw them too. "But tomorrow. It's almost dark."

Leon sighed, long and rugged. "So we lasted the day. How many didn't?"

"Looks like we'll find out soon enough." We fell into silence, awkwardly shifting about to find a nonexistent likable position. Our shuffling was so excruciatingly loud and running would be harder with Leon in my arms.

After about twenty minutes, Leon finally huffed, "Could you have found a more uncomfortable spot?"

"It provides cover," I explained indignantly. "Sorry it isn't some five star lap of luxury with a four course meal and chic pillows. I would love for you to explain how I'd make your stay any more pleasant."

Leon scowled at the snappy statement but his mouth twisted up in a smirk. "Sing me a lullaby."

"You gotta be kidding me…" I groaned. An unusual, rare grin crept up his face.

"Well, I was, but since you mentioned it," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Go ahead."

"No," I scowled. "I will not sing you a lullaby." Leon batted his eyelashes sarcastically. "You actually think that'd work?"

He shrank down to his kitty form, limping over and resting his head in my lap. I scowled as he meowed at me but I finally gave in. He crawled up and rested his head on my stomach, bunching the cloth of the dress up to create a pillow.

In a plain monotone, I mumbled, "Happy kitty, sleepy kitty, little ball of fur. Happy?"

The way he shrugged, a cat in such a human like fashion, sort of disturbed me. But it seemed that it would do.

Finally, the Capitol anthem began to play. Leon purred as I unconsciously stroked his neck.

All the Careers survived the day and since Leon and I were right here, it jumped right into the boy from Six, Cameron, I think his name was. Then came the duo from District Eight and the young, lithe girl of District Nine. That strange District Ten boy's face lit up the sky, ending on District Thirteen's girl.

Quickly counting on my fingers, I ticked off six in total, five of which died at the bloodbath, the sixth about an hour ago. Twenty kids still alive.

I stroked Leon, who gazed up with his light blue eyes. "We have a long way to go," I whispered. We were safe, but only for now. Tomorrow would only bring even more hell.

**So, just wondering; who do you want to hear from next? **

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five<br>Lauryn Rivera, District Six  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Silvia Arbres, District Seven<br>Cede Demeter, District Seven  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight_(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine<br>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten **–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven<br>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen<strong>


	27. Day Two: An Old Friend of Ours

**So, yeah, I think I should mention I got a Beta. She's doing a great job, as you can see, and I really did a crappy job on this chapter, so thought I should thank her for this one.**

_**Zander De La Fuente, District Five**_

"There's water in the fountain!" the Sandy guy from District Four announced. I sat up quickly when the words worked their way through my brain. The lack of water made the rat powered wheel that started all the thoughts in my head slow but the gears gradually began turning. Water. Water is good. People can last a while without food but only a few days without water. And there are horrible side effects that come with it.

The next second, I realized that the entire Career pack was only a few feet away from me. With a gasp, I ducked low, taking cover by a white picket fence sitting in the shadow of a looming maple tree. Through sparse gaps in the panels, I could still see the group, an arm here or a torso there. The street lights casted orange shadows across the streets and dark outlines of the people.

They rustle with movement, wearily crying with delight. I raise a hand to my own parched throat and watch them rise.

"Where's the fountain?" the District Two guy, Slate, was it, said. His district partner hobbled beside him. I couldn't quite see what was wrong in the lighting but she moved at a slow pace.

"Up the road, near the park area," the shadow of a person with more limbs than should be on a being said matter-of-factly. One of those hands held a crossbow, which didn't quite sit comfortably in the tummy area.

"Fantabulous!" the twelve year old screeched. She twirled about, watching her dress flutter, when one of the large creatures lying nearby pounced to its feet. Hairy and growling, pretty sure it was a werewolf. Its nose stuck up in the air, directed straight at-oh, directly at me. "What is it, Fluffy?"

The creature's growl rumbled low in its throat and brought on the urge to pee. The sounds of weapons being drawn caused me to mumble "Fuck" beneath my breath.

"Go fetch, Fluffy," the girl whispered. "Go get the dumb-dumb." Well, I lived a nice life. I rocked back on my bum, scrabbling back a few feet. The creature sniffed the air. It was inching closer and closer as I scrambled farther and farther away.

Standing upright, I stumbled about the house to the backyard. A large in ground pool lay a few feet away and the wolf a few feet ahead. A large, not so jumpable fence, unlike the small white ones in the front, outlined the stretch of grass and I realized I was so mightily trapped and even more screwed.

As if my current situation wasn't horrible enough, several hands shot from the water and gripped my ankles. Completely flatfooted, I was jerked back and smacked the surface hard. The hands covered my mouth and I thrashed about, trying to get them off. Mutts, great, how could I have known there were mutts in the water that pretty much wanted to kill me? I grew gills on my neck to breathe and adjusted my eyes to see better in the dark.

A pair of brown eyes blinked at me, framed by long lashes. Oh, snap. That ain't a mutt. That's a person.

She gasped for breath, sinking below the surface. Shit, I'm guessing she can't swim either. I yanked her up over to the side where she finally found a good breath. We ducked low and listened as the wolf began sniffing us out. The water threw it off the scent.

"Fluffy, come back!" the little twelve year old shouted. The wolf growled one last time, barking harshly, before spinning about.

"Someone, kill her!" a girl's voice screeched. Their voices and footsteps carried down the road and I treaded water for another five minutes before pulling myself over the side. I grabbed the girl and hauled her up. We collapsed back and the gills faded from my neck.

It took me a second to recognize the girl in the dark and soaking wet. But once I placed her, I was certain it was her.

"Chrys, right?" I inquired. Coughing, she nodded. I brushed the wet strand of brown hair from her forehead, stroking her back as she rattled. Her arena sweater hung on her body and looked like it could use a serious wring out. I examined myself and realized I needed the same thing.

Slipping off shirt, I squeezed the water from it. Chrys finally quieted, breathing deeply to calm. "Thanks for helping me back there."

"We're still in the same spot," she pointed out. "But, uh, you're welcome."

A grin crossed my face. "So you're finally taking up my offer for that alliance, huh?" her brown eyes widened, probably thinking back to our exchange on the elevator in the Training Center.

"The other girl you were flirting with sort of died."

I shrugged. "So. You saved my ass before. You're a soaking wet dream come true."

She groaned, shaking her head. I could already imagine her think she'd made the wrong decision by saving me from the wolf. "Come on. They're chasing my doppelgänger right now and she can only last so long on her own." Oh, right, Chrys could duplicate herself.

I helped her up, tossing my soaking shirt over my shoulder. "Zander, by the way. I'm from District Five."

"The panda Victor district?" I nodded. "You must have plenty of wonderful stories to share."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," I grinned cheekily. Much to her dismay, I took her hand, running off out of the backyard. We glanced back and forth across the street, as if we were looking both ways for cars, and sprinted like hell out of there.

_**Cede Demeter, District Seven**_

I haven't had much to do in the past day. Mainly, I fixed and redressed the wound on my arm from the District Two girl. She went completely ape shit on me and I could practically still feel where her blade dug into my upper arm. It hurt to swing my axe but it'd have to suffice.

I haven't run into anyone, which is probably why I haven't done much. Probably not a good thing since it only meant the Capitol was getting bored but I was fine with it. More time to rest, more time to heal.

What I could use right now is some drinkable water…

See, there are the pools here or there. But they're chlorinated and, well, not drinkable. The hunger wasn't too bad but it was mainly the thirst. It hurt to swallow the minimal saliva in my throat and the entire inside of my mouth felt raw. Propping the axe up on my shoulder, I rubbed the drying surface of my tongue. Yes, water was my main goal for the moment.

My mind wandered off. What were my brothers doing right now? My tense limbs ease slightly at the thought of them. They could be watching this, more possibly they'd be in school. It's too early in the morning to be watching it during a lunch period. Is it morning in District Seven? I'm not even sure.

I froze, finally taking notice of my axe gradually becoming larger and heavier. It clattered hard against the pavement and I watched it shrink back down to its normal size. Damn it. I lifted it up and paid better attention as I observed where my wandering feet had directed me, all the way down the block.

At the last house on the block, right before the buildings became that of convenience stores and diners, I stopped and decided to check it out. Maybe the faucets actually worked in this one. It was a slim chance but it gave me something to do. This one had a neat porch with a grinning garden gnome waving at me.

Inside, a radio played, some ancient song I would never have any chance of naming. The house was completely still and I was slightly daunted by the standing mannequins. They were dressed like the rest of us, posed in casual positions, in front of the TV, in the kitchen, with blank, unblinking eyes. The radio's music carried from the kitchen, the device sitting in the middle of the table. The flowers sitting beside them looked lively, and I strode to the sink. I licked my lips, hopefully watching the faucet. I twisted the knob…and nothing came out.

Dammit.

Grabbing a cabinet door, I swung it open to slam it shut again. Water, that's all I needed- some freaking water! All I wanted to do was go home! I never asked to be a freak! Why should I be blamed for some stupid rebellion?

The song playing ended and I was sent into a silent gap of time, simply staring out into space, pondering whatever may come to mind.

"Hello, Miss and or Sir," a male voice chirped on the radio. I spun around at the sudden sound, axe poised to hack someone. "This is an official announcement."

Hesitantly, I lowered my weapon. Great. They were talking to us through the radio. What other crap do they have up their sleeve? Awkwardly, I leaned towards the sound, paying close attention as he spoke.

"This is an official announcement," he repeated. "We are conducting a Bomb Safety drill. If you are hearing this, we suggest you take refuge for we're about to blast large bombs atop of you which will kill you in a horrible explosive and fiery death."

…what? Bomb Safety? Wait, explosion? What the hell?

"This drill will be conducted in two minutes. Please evacuate into your assigned bomb shelter. If you do not have an assigned shelter or simply have no idea where it is, we suggest you run far away until you only see the faint outline of the mushroom cloud." They're actually blowing us up. This…this was insane.

Angrily, I grabbed the radio and shrunk it down. It was diminishing before my eyes, so small I can barely see it. The person's voice comically shrunk as well, down to a mere chipmunk squeak until the entire device disappeared, along with the sound. I slammed my axe down into it just to ensure the stupid thing was gone.

…How the hell did that help? The house could easily explode in the next two minutes.

A pot clattered to the floor suddenly, spooking me. How can I get freaked out so easily? Why wasn't I running?

Timidly, I glanced about one last time. I could practically hear my time ticking away. No water, no food, but life intact, I sprinted from the house as fast as physically possible.

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

Morning light streamed through the window and I stirred in its warmth. Voices were already prodding at my brain, demanding to be heard.

_It hurts, it hurts, please make it stop!_

_Hey, if the Games don't kill you, can I possess your body?_

_If I have to spend one more minute with these people, I'm going to kill myself again._

Why couldn't my life be normal for once?

I crawled out from under the kitchen table, crossing my arms tight around me. A radio played on, the voice of an old rock and roll singer echoing off the ceramic tiles. The final last few notes were being played, and the giddy voice of a talk show host took its place.

"And that was some old guy that no one exactly gives a hoot about," he chortled. I jerked my head up and slammed it solidly into the table. The voice chuckled. It's that guy again. He was on the radio. "It's just me, Dolly."

"Th-there are plenty of j-j-just me types in my head," I stammered. Completely sane. Talking to a radio. Although, I hear dead people, I've never been sane before. "And why are you calling me Dolly?"

"I saved your life," he chided. "So I'm extra special over the dumbasses in your head." The onslaught of angry voices cranked up in volume, causing my head to spin. I slumped down against the cabinet, taking a moment to find my bearings and for them to subside.

"Why are you on the radio?" I asked. A wave of static came in and I feared the boy was gone. But his voice warbled through, crisper than before.

"You're the medium. You should know how ghosts chat through the radio. What they don't have radios from where you're from?" I shook my head. After a second, I opened my mouth to respond verbally, since he couldn't possibly see him. But he laughed again. I felt like I knew him, not well, but if I were to see his face, I'd know. Pointing out I was a medium….

"So you're dead?" I asked. I could imagine the space of silence, a cocky boy smirking from ear to ear. If I could just imagine the rest of him…

"Dead as a doornail," he said. He groaned, too. "But I can't stop using stupid old people slang. I'm pretty sure my parents didn't even use this terminology." Were his parents dead too? And when did this boy die?

Abruptly, there was some banging up the steps and the front door creaked open. The radio instantly picked up from some portion of a song. "I got this, Dolly," he whispered under the strums of a guitar. Crawling across the floor, I took refuge under the sink, cramming my thankfully thin limbs into the tight space. The feet walked closer, right to the sink. I held my breath, restraining the urge to rock in the fetal position. I heard the screechy sound of the person turning the handle for the water. No further sound came.

The thirsty tribute took hold of the door providing me cover; opening and throwing it back down. The slap of wood against wood hid when I flinched back and slammed my own head into the space's corner. _Run, Miss, run! _a young boy's voice cried. _He has an axe with 'im._

I cowered. My limbs had begun to shake violently and my whispered breaths were obnoxiously loud. The radio quieted, and I feared the tribute would finally become aware of my presence.

"Hello, Miss and or Sir." My heart pounded when he spoke. What was this ghost boy doing now? "This is an official announcement." His words drew the tribute's attentions and he stepped away. The air was warm but the confined space helped me keep my thoughts in order.

""This is an official announcement," the ghost boy on the radio said again. "We are conducting a Bomb Safety drill. If you are hearing this, we suggest you take refuge for we're about to blast large bombs atop of you which will kill you in a horrible explosive and fiery death." I constrained the muffled laughter rattling my chest, mingled closely with terrified sobs. I pressed my palms over my ears.

_He'll find you eventually. They always find you._

_Get it over with. One good slice to the head should do it._

_Let. Us. In._

I gasped at this voice. Too late, though. Its nails were already gripped into me, tugging and pulling to get in my head. As if my mind were torn open, I was struck by how open everything was spread out. Shadowed hands wrapped around me, tighter, tighter…

A voice, neither male nor female spoke clearly into my thoughts. _We are stronger as one. Let us in. Let us control you. You are stronger with us and we are stronger with you. Let us be one._

No air reached my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think, couldn't see anything at all. Instead, I was shoved down, away from all consciousness. So easy it would be to release the controls to this cryptic voice and enjoy the bliss silence of the dark.

Suddenly, I was jerked back up, aware of all senses, including the pain radiating in my head and the warm air tickling my face. Pushing open the door, I toppled out, panting heavily on the cooler air beyond the cramped area. I froze as I realized I'd just burst from my hiding spot but found no one. I sighed with relief. The tribute was gone.

"You alright, Dolly?" I adjusted my head, looking up at the boy. I wasn't able to get a good look at him yesterday, and it was hard to focus too much on any one part of him. He didn't seem all there, physically, wavering in my sights. Crisp hazel eyes stared, clear as day, down at me. I'm not one to ogle over boys but he was gorgeous, dressed in the rest of our getup. The clothes fit closely to his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Smiling at me, his teeth were flawlessly white.

"Do I know you?" I asked. "And how can I see you?"

"Because I'm so epically amazing, I can make myself visible to you," he stated cheekily. "And you'll figure out who I am. Can't forget a face like this, now, can we?" He gestured to himself, tilting his head.

"What happened to the tribute boy? And what just happened to me? How can-?"

"Are you writing a book here?" he said. "Slow down, Dolly. I'll clue you in on it later." He nearly vanished but managed to keep himself visible. He reached forward to flick the hair from my eyes. His fingers, instead, floated through me. It was like an icy cold sensation that managed to penetrate my skin. The ghost sighed, swatting his hand through me a few times.

I made to grab his hand and stop it from passing through me again, but it skimmed limply down through his wispy limb. "Please, stop," I grimaced.

"What?" he said, raising an eyebrow mockingly. "It's fun. Haven't been able to get this near a girl who wasn't complaining about being dead in a long time."

I only then realized how I was cowering back into the cabinets, attempting to put as much distance between me and him as possible. Ghosts typically struggle to solidify themselves, the more tortured and confused, the weaker they are. There are those who have accepted the fact they are dead and they're just generally stronger. There were a few of these types in District Twelve and that one boy who spoke to me on the train. None of them ever dared approach me like this.

I sensed something awful, though, about his spirit. So bitter and empty and proud of himself to admit it. "Will you just answer one of my questions?"

"Well, Dolly, I'll tell you this; I'm dead. That's all someone like you needs to know, right?" I scowled, shrinking down as I was unable to recoil further. I didn't like this boy. He grinned sardonically at me for a long stretch of silence. He was fading, though. Sunlight flooded through his translucent body, warming my face. No, I did not like him.

But he saved me. So I guess I sort of owe him. "Thanks," I said in a low tone.

His grin broadened. "You're welcome."

With that, he was gone, yet again.

**The ghost boy is fairly obvious, isn't it?**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice, Foe, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Shale, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Alice, Balthy, Foe, Shale, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six<br>**Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Silvia Arbres, District Seven<br>Cede Demeter, District Seven  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight_(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine<br>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten **–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen<strong>


	28. Day Two: I'm a Freak and You're a Girl

**I'm so sorry for not updating Wednesday. I feel horrible about it. I'm promise an update today and will try my hardest to get a chapter out Wednesday, the 30****th****. This chapter came out extremely long, so I hope it makes up for it.**

_**Lauryn Rivera, District 6**_

The cry of a siren travelled down the streets, echoing off the vacant homes. I stumbled up to fountain sitting in the midst of a park, only stopping to pull of my socks and shoes and ploughed right through the water. It felt wonderful on my aching feet, as it should if I've been running from practically nothing all day. Still, every scuffle, every shake of the leaves on the trees got me jumping to my feet and had me sprinting away aimlessly. I've stabbed several of those poor mannequin things already.

It would be so much easier to relax in the fountain if it wasn't for this stupid siren going off. Not caring quite how clean the water was I slurped it down. It tasted awful, like dirt and I'm pretty sure I swallowed a bug. But my sore throat was soothed and my mind cleared a little.

Maybe I should pay attention to this siren.

From speakers at the tops of poles, a voice spoke over the screech piercing my eardrums. "Tributes and citizens, this is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Please be present at your assigned bunker and wait there for further instructions. You'll find required items at your disposal there, including water," my ears perked up at that word, "food, spare clothes, blankets, and other objects you may require." This announcement was repeated several times, heavy emphasis on "This is not a drill." Obviously, it wasn't a drill. But if this bunker had water, that means, well, I could get water.

And so can everyone else. All the other tributes with their sharp weapons. Great.

I itemized my small amount of items. I had cut a small, makeshift pocket into my dress, and as I inch out the blade tucked into the slit, I run my hand along my stomach. There are subtle pangs of hunger, light enough to ignore, but it was only the beginning, a warning sign. I had to get food into my system. The side effects would make my mind fuzzy and I couldn't risk anything like that.

So which risk to take; go to the bunkers or stay hungry? Go for food and end up dead any way or die from starvation and dehydration? The final decision became clear after a moment of thought; risking the bunkers would be a lot faster and, depending on whom I run into, less painful.

Drying my feet on the grass and yanking back on my socks and shoes, I realized that I had no idea where these bunkers were. Weren't they, like, underground, or something? Like District Thirteen? Practically all of District Thirteen is just one giant bunker, if you think about it. Don't they have literal bunkers beneath the living quarters? I need to find some Thirteen person because these questions are going to be bothering me up to the moment I die. That could be…any moment from now.

So, yeah, there I was standing in soggy socks and with no sense of where I was to go. The sun was up, providing enough warmth for the short sleeves to be comfortable and the breeze that followed kept me cool. Everything here was so…perfect. And life was so imperfect.

This was not right. I was normal. Could my DNA or whatever have gotten confused with my sister's somehow? I couldn't help but ponder this. What if my sister had been reaped and I had known I was, I mean, _if_ I was a freak? Would I have taken her spot? My sister was only a year younger than me but she was a young twelve. She wouldn't last a second.

Although, it's not like she volunteered for me. It's not like any of my mutant friends volunteered for me. I was on my own. The situation never happened and will never occur.

"This is not a drill," echoes down the sidewalks one last time. "Don't say we didn't warn you." I shook the thoughts, a nervous shiver running down my spine.

Those words can never mean anything good.

Timidly, I glanced about, swivelling my head to the right, and then whipping around to look over my shoulder to my left. I slid my knife from its slit and held it at the ready. What are they coming at us with?

A high-pitched scream carried faintly through the air. Something was obviously going on over there. I run my finger along the sharpened edge, a paper thin cut bleeding out on my finger. This was completely stupid. But better I have the choice of going into trouble instead of being forced there. I'm sorry; even I couldn't find conviction in that statement. The pep talk wasn't helping. Gripping the handle tight, I spun on my heel and ran in the opposite direction of the scream.

From the park, I sprinted towards a town area. There was a pharmacy at the corner with plenty of attractions for entertainment around. I passed both a bowling alley and a roller rink, with big, shiny signs proudly showing the joint's name. They weren't on, since it was still say time, but they must be blinding during the night. Across the street, the doors of a diner were wide open. Slowing until I came to a complete stop, I peeked about to look inside. Those creepy mannequin things were inside, but other than that, it was void of anyone.

My steps echoed off the cold black and white tiles. A jukebox was placed a little off from where I first walked in with open space for hormone ridden teens to probably dance. Oh, how times have changed, I thought with a smirk.

"_Psst!"_

I spun, slashing my blade through the air. Nothing moved and I held the knife tight. My knuckles were turning white. "Who's there?" I called. I jabbed my knife in the air. "I'll kill you, I swear."

From behind one of the vinyl booths, two hands rose. If I was within a foot of them, I probably would have stabbed aimlessly and hoped I could at least injure the bastard. A face appeared, an actually good-looking boy face, not much older than me, pressing a finger to his lips. I scrunched my face up confusedly. He shook his head, his longish hair sweeping before his face.

"What?" I said. He cringed at the volume of my voice, gesturing for me to quiet down. Without making my voice any lower, I shouted, "Tell me what's going on!"

The boy, Alix, I remembered, clenched his teeth, glancing nervously to the mannequins. His blue eyes widened and a speckling of freckles flashed across his cheeks as he disappeared behind the booth again. He wasn't just going to hide to lamely like that!

My fist tightened and as I prepared to march forward, a hand snatched my wrist. It wasn't warm and too smooth to be organic. Looking up, I found the mannequin to be staring blankly from its eyes. Its mouth twisted up to expose a toothless gaping hole, a loud siren blasting from a speaker peeking at me from that back of the throat.

It yanked my arm, bending it painfully into my back. Okay, so maybe I should have listened to Pretty Boy. I lost the strength to hold my weapon and I was forced to release it. The metal tip clattered against the floor by my feet. Screeching, I kicked and bucked wildly, trying to squirm free from the mannequin's grip. Its movements were robotic and slightly slow and smashing it into the counter, I broke free.

It was already moving towards me again. I blindly swung my foot up and nailed it square in the chest. How can something so hollow sounding be so freakin' lethal? It took hold of my ankle, twisting me about to where I was forced to shuffle on the balls of my left foot to retain balance. My back was to it now and I strived to jerk my leg free. My leg was yanked back and center was thrown forward. My body toppled, sharp pain shooting through my skull. Air fought to reach my lungs, somehow unable to. What was going on? It was like steel bars were enclosing my chest, compressing my insides. The mannequin was crushing me!

Warmth trickled down the side of my head, dripping down to my neck. I was bleeding, dammit, I was bleeding! I couldn't breathe and I was bleeding!

The sticky red liquid lay visible on the tiles before me, smeared into the white squares. Right beside it-my knife!

Working my arms from where they were pinned, I wriggled beneath the downwards hold of the being. Its plastic fingers drove into my throat. At the back of my throat came a guttural gurgle, darkness fraying the edges in my vision. It was like a picture being lit, flames eating away the corners. Jerking my limbs about, my left arm jolted free. The dress' sleeve brushed my face as I reached across the floor for it. Just another inch, it was so close to my fingers…just out of reach….

My heart skipped a beat as it was scooped up by another hand. Shoes with untied laces stepped towards me in my fading vision and they thrust a hand down over me.

The weight was released from me and I gulped a full breath into my lungs. The mannequin fell to the floor beside me. I sat up, only to dip over in the opposite direction, sticking my head between my knees as oxygen worked through my brain. A face popped in front of mine, scaring me from its suddenness. I slapped him away, skittering back a few feet on my bum.

He cried out in pain, more pain than he should from a mere slap from a thirteen year old. Alix pressed his palm to his cheek and through the gaps of his fingers I glimpsed those freckles again. It was only on the side I touched.

Our breathing finally calmed. I held my hand up towards Alix. He stared at it for a moment before realizing what I wanted. He dropped my knife into my palm and I positioned it to slide it back to its original spot in my dress.

"Not yet," Alix breathed. "You may still need that." He reached out towards my bleeding head but withdrew as I recoiled. "You hit your head hard on that count-"

He was cut short as I slammed the knife into the mannequin's back. The way he threw his arms up protectively over his face…was actually a little humorous.

"Sorry," I said, smothering the smirk. "Double-tap, you know?" Alix gazed at me like he was certain I was crazy. I sighed. "But thanks for, uh, saving my life."

I offered my hand to him. After a second of hesitation, Alix relaxed, glancing over both his shoulders. "You're welcome." His hand wrapped around mine and suddenly, he erupted with a roar of pain. It shot up two octaves to a high-pitched shriek. Those freckles became bold and hair grew to below his shoulder blades, a dirty blonde color now.

I dropped his hand and he, now a she, panted, running a hand through her hair. Alix gasped as her fingers traced through the longer, blonder strands. She flushed red, frantically feeling her face and rest of her.

"Uh, um…" I stammered. "Why are you a girl?"

Alix's green eyes bored into me. "What did you do to me?" She grabbed my collar, the calm façade broken. "You're ruining everything! He's going to die because of this!"

"Who?" I asked. "Girl, what are you ranting about?"

"You canceled out my powers!" she screeched. "Stop this!" I raised a speculative eyebrow.

"Are you sure you're not the one who bashed their head into a counter?" My words slurred slightly. My vision still spun. "Wait, you mean you actually look like this? I thought you were a guy."

Alix winced, hissing, "Shut up!" Despite my head moving at half its normal speed, the information processed. Alix was from District Nine. The boy tribute was a shape shifter there.

He helped me to my feet and we hobbled to the doors. The mannequins' heads began to turn to us.

Lupe slammed into me during training and kept getting annoyed for some reason, looked absolutely confused.

Alix paused, attempting to morph, I guess. Seeing it not working, she grunted, hauling me along. My feet dragged along the sidewalk. "Looks like we're teaming up."

Cameron couldn't freeze the table while we were waiting for our private sessions. _"Are you sure you're a mutant? I mean, the machine in Six could have been having an off day."_

The crazy District Four chick can make people do things against their will. She was trying to do something to me during the bloodbath, the way her eyes flashed so menacingly….

And now Alix couldn't morph. Alix wasn't a guy. Alix actually looked like this. Alix was a girl.

"_You're ruining everything! He's going to die because of this!"_

This "Alix" was protecting someone back home. She was protecting the real Alix. And I was stopping her from pretending to be Alix.

I was canceling her powers. I had canceled everyone's powers.

_Boom!_

I'm a freak.

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

"Don't say we didn't warn you." Annabelle wrapped her thick arms around me, shrinking away from the sound. Her face was stock still, though, void of expression. She was actually humming to herself. You need her, Brandy, I chided myself. Don't snap on her quite yet. You still need the girl.

"We'll be fine, Ann," I said softly. It took every ounce of energy for me not to spit the words at her. The girl lives in a bubble. And, frankly, she can be a teeny bit creepy. Her head is like a potato chip bag; over half of it was filled with air. "They just want to get us to fight."

"Are you going to use my lights again?" she asked. Her dark, hooded eyes somehow managed to catch a twinkle of light behind those thick brows.

"Not quite yet, kid," I said. I began to pry her fingers off my body, putting an arm's length of distance between us. She cocked her head curiously at me. The girl was like a dog. Eager to please with no goals herself, with all the stupid in a dog too. "But I'm just so excited to see what the Gamemakers have in store for us."

"Isn't that a bad thing though?" Annabelle winced. "Your nails are hurting me."

I released the hold I had on the girl's arm, forcing myself to calm down. Annabelle ran her hands over her forearm, little dribbles of blood dripping along her dusky brown skin. She wiped it off on her skirt-yes, because it is entirely hygienic to clean your bloody arm on your clothes-and blinked blankly, waiting for me to do something.

"Sorry," I mumbled. We needed a better hiding spot, soon. Annabelle was stealthy if I put extra emphasis on the skill when explaining it to her. She didn't even realize where we've been moving for the past two days. The girl was a good, I don't know what to call her, minion? Huh, alright, let's go with that. She was an excellent minion. She stayed in her little bubble and didn't poke around mine. There's no reason for her to suddenly go off the deep end. No second-in-command, but nice enough. She doesn't even realize she killed a good portion of the tributes. If it wasn't for me, we'd be that much farther from getting home. _I'd_ be that much farther from winning.

The shed we slept in last night, though, had an assortment of makeshift weapons. The shovel was too much for me to lug around but Annabelle could carry it no problem. I also got my hands on this rusty hammer. It still held together, though, and was useful enough.

The siren blasted against my eardrums. "Get inside." Without another word, Annabelle walked to our shed. She cocked her head curiously as I stayed still.

"Where are you going?" she asked. Her voice always sounds soft, like she was off in her own little world. Almost a little loopy, but she wasn't high. I sort of wish she was. There'd be a better reason for her to be so…like this.

"I'm scouting out whatever the hell this is. Don't move." I rethought the statement. I could actually use her. But she may be caught in what I'm planning…"Actually, Ann, I have a plan for you. Listen carefully, okay?"

She nodded, hefting her shovel up over her shoulder and leaning in close to hear. I ensured to cup my hands around her ears. She kept her mouth shut as I spoke, not speaking up once. "Yes, Brandy." Doesn't question, just doesn't. Yes, she was an excellent minion.

I moved ahead, not stopping to watch her move her own way.

I was alone. Not much different from before.

Swinging my hammer to regain a feel on it, I kept out of sight. The Careers had to be close by. We've been following them for the last couple of hours; about the time the girl, Foe, was burned. Proves playing with fire can only lead to bad things. The weird District Twelve boy was gone, for now, and out of sight. The sky proved he hadn't died. He was still out there somewhere.

A scream jolted me from my musings and I launched myself out of sight. I feared for a moment the Careers had captured Annabelle but the scream just didn't seem to fit. She wouldn't scream like that. She doesn't have the vocals for it.

I crept up, peering around a tree to where the sound originated from.

"Stop fighting!" the young twelve year old from District One commanded. She must have screamed. Her face was a bright red. "We need to make nice to each other. Sandy wouldn't want us fighting like this."

"Oh, shut up, Alice," Bree rolled her eyes.

Alice Lynn planted her hands on her hips. "Shut up is not a nice word," she accused, pointing a small finger at the older girl. The ram dude stood by, glancing between the two with a quizzical look on his face. He was as interested by this as I was. A smirk crossed my features. I didn't even have to try to tear these dumbasses apart. They did a pretty good job of it themselves. A gentle nudge would get them in motion.

Foe snorted angrily, a puff of smoking streaming up from her nostrils. "I'm done with this crap. There are tributes that need to be killed and I'm sure as hell won't be one of them."

She stormed off, a funny looking stride as the burn still probably hurt like hell, and I was barely able to press myself to the house's wall in time to evade being seen. The steam practically rolled off her and I was hit by a wave of warmth.

"I'll get her." Gee, great.

I shrank down, dirt wedging into my ass, and the Sandy dude sprinted past. His mutation was hard to explain. Sometimes, when I looked at him, I found I was so stupidly swooning. He's like a snake charmer. The dude was either A) probably a good guy and just way over his head with this Career shit or B) one maniacal bastard. Hard to tell.

I watched the duo disappear, walking off to a nearby park. Perfect. This is where careful planning and estimations become important. Come in too soon, the other tributes get suspicious. Wait too long and the other two show up again and blow my cover. I counted to one hundred at an even pace, silently imagining each number in my head.

"Bree, calm down already," the District Two guy snapped. His name, dammit, what was it? Slate…Drale…no, wait, Shale. Shale flicked at pebbles on the ground, fed up hearing the arguing. "Or I will personally take the stick from your ass."

"Oh, District Two with your Mommy issues," Bree mumbled. "Makes you guys so insecure."

The fifteen year old shot up to his feet, rockified and dangling Bree by the throat. "Don't you dare mention that, bitch!"

Alice Lynn covered her ears. "Bad word, Shaley!" She strode to Ram Dude, whose name I'm certain I will never learn to say, and plopped down onto his lap. He seemed startled by this bug shrugged, patting her shoulder with one of his four hands. His messy hair was slicked up in this odd looking topknot; one Alice Lynn found joy in poking at.

I kept myself from bursting out laughing at the sight. Come on, this shit was hilarious! It made awesome television. There are these two going at each other's throats and the other two were so lamely watching. Anyone willing to share the popcorn? Possibly some gummy bears?

"Sorry," Bree choked. "Dude, don't fight me, I'm sorry! Just put me down." Conviction pushed through her last line. Shale stood stock still, Bree's legs swinging freely in place for a moment. He lost all stone to him, shrinking down to the short, stocky kid from before. Miss Bitch herself landed gracefully on her feet and curled her lip in contempt. She moved away as Shale realized what she had forced him to do.

"Hey!" he shouted angrily.

Bree raised her hands in surrender. "Sorry, seriously. You're a good guy. Foe, on the other hand, does have some sister issues."

Wow. I wonder what Foe would say if she heard that.

The smirk broadened on my face as I stood.

Showtime.

_**Balthizar Demarkos, District 1**_

"What did you say about me?"

Alice Lynn's hold on my hair tightened and it was a painful yank on my hairline. She was a sweet girl. Not too bright, but that was alright. Foe blundered back up, pointing a finger towards Bree. The District Four girl smirked, bending to pick up her trident. Foe's dark eyes trailed over the movement, a lob bobbing in her throat.

"Oh, me?" Bree said sarcastically, glancing about as if it possibly could have been someone else. She's enjoying this more than any average person should. Bree wasn't average, though. But Foe was feeding too much into it…too much….

"Yes, you," Foe snarled. "Who are you talking about sister issues?"

"Just, Y-O-U, little girl," Bree cackled. She lightly tapped Foe's nose. I pressed my lips together.

"Alice," I whispered to the young girl. "Stand up, please."

Alice Lynn opened her mouth to argue but shrugged indifferently. "Only since you said please." She lifted her dress' skirt daintily to rise. She ducked behind me as Foe raised her knuckle threateningly to Bree's neck. Foe's eyes swerved nervously over to me and Alice for a second. Alice Lynn pressed her face closer into my side.

"Don't touch me," Foe snapped. Bree waved her trident teasingly in front of the girl's face, making a shallow cut in her cheek. Foe growled, hand falling to her hip. I blinked curiously.

"Guys, stop fighting," Shale said. Huh, strange, how he so easily switches from the offense to the defense. He was seconds away from strangling Bree and now acting as Peacekeeper. The Games provided so much more knowledge than I thought was possible. It brings out the nitty-gritty of people, of teenagers. You never really fully comprehend what goes on in the arena until you are actually there watching everyone and everything unravel before you.

"Yes," Alice Lynn stomped her foot stubbornly. "Please. I don't like everyone fighting." She tugged my sleeve. "Balthy, make them stop."

"Shh," I whispered. "I'm observing."

"But, Balthy…."

Foe shook her head. "I know you plan on killing all of us once you get the major competitors out of the way. Everyone, including little Alice Lynn!" Alice gasped, covering her mouth. Little tears sparkled in her sea-green eyes.

"Is that true, Bree?"

The girl snorted. "Of course not. I mean, yeah, we're all going to end up killing each other eventually, but not quite yet."

Alice shook her head. Her tiny fists tightened and she erupted. "THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE _FUN!_" she exclaimed. "THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A NICE BIG GAME! AND YOU'RE BEING A BIG CHEATER, BREE!"

"Cheater?" Bree couldn't help herself to add. "Darling, you should know fair fights are for suckers."

My suspicions about this Foe person were confirmed as I watched a grin light up her face.

"Stop her!" I shouted, pointing to the imposter. Shale peered closely, too closely. Tucked into the pocket of her skirt, she whipped out a hammer, slamming the pointed side into the side of Shale's head. Blood splattered and Alice screamed as it covered her. The other Foe sprinted away while Shale pressed his hand to his temple. His steel colored eyes twirled about frantically, unable to focus on one specific place. He collapsed to his knees. The hammer had struck a tender area on the boy.

It looked like erupted hadn't been the proper word to use earlier. If that was erupted, then this was full blown mass destruction. She threw herself onto the ground and I swear all gates of hell blew open.

My vision was covered black. Dark tentacles were wrapping around each of my limbs and heaved me in different directions. Alice's screams were in my ears, the only thing I could possibly hear. Her tantrum was deadly. Nightmares I never would have ever been able to imagine tore my brain to shreds, crawling into the smallest of crevices. My hands scrabbled about, only able to grabbing my own head and scream myself. Bree pleaded for Alice Lynn to stop, that she was just being silly.

There was nothing from Shale.

In a second, it ended, but with a series of bright blue explosions. More screams and the ground beneath me shook.

Alice Lynn was in a heap, sobbing. The dark shadows, cast across the grass like shadow puppets, drew their crippled selves back into her. I dragged myself to her, examining her small body. Burns, here and there, from whatever those explosions were. The girl from Ten. She had teamed up with that girl from District Five….

Of course, the shape shifter.

Bree moaned, in pain, but fine. Shale didn't move.

I needed to move Alice somewhere safe. The siren was still there, I realized, only background noise. Climbing to full height, I tossed the younger girl over my shoulder. We couldn't be around Bree any longer, not after this.

Bree glared at me. She didn't have the strength to move though. Not after this attack.

"This was supposed to be fun," Alice whimpered. I jogged through a backyard. "It's just a game."

_**Foe Sterling, District 2**_

"I'm guessing that's not good," I pointed out. A dark shadow hung in the air, unearthly shapes forming within it. For a moment, blue orbs like those in the bloodbath floated about to provide an ounce of light.

A cannon fired.

The darkness was obliterated, only replaced by a painfully bright sight. Imagine staring at the sun while it spins in a microwave. This all happened to be where we left our allies.

"Neither is that," Sandy murmured. We had stopped before a large map of the town in the park. The bunkers were not too far from where we were now. I followed the trail of Santiago's pointing finger to the mannequins sprinting our way. We exchanged a look.

"Now we run."

**So…what's going on in those noggins of yours?**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two_(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Silvia Arbres, District Seven<br>Cede Demeter, District Seven  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight_(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen<strong>


	29. Day Two: Timber!

**Hey guys! Yes, I know, I promised I'd update, and I'm pissed off about it. But Fanfiction kindly decided to wipe out all stories with any "submit your own tribute" involvement. Thankfully, Mutant Games was spared, due to the lack of SYOT in its summary. But my longest going story, "Will It Ever End?" is gone. Sorry for everyone who had stories deleted (especially ones I followed myself). I at least only lost one. Other people lost multiple, finished pieces.**

_**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District 11**_

"Over there!" Zander shouted above the screech of the sirens - we barely escaped the mannequins in the house we were camped out in. Red claw marks from their plastic fingers dragged from under Zander's left eye down his neck to his collarbone. Similar lines covered my arms and other visible bare skin.

The District Five boy grabbed my hand, hauling me across the street. We were woken up by the sirens. Despite falling asleep with my head on Zander's shoulder, I awoke snuggled in his arms. The goosebumps rose on my flesh and I had jerked instantly from his grip around me. I have probably never been that close to a person since my mutation first started appearing. I had been two when it developed.

When I realized the mannequins standing over us, I tugged the boy to the side. He was fully awake as the monsters scratched at him and it took three of me as me and the mannequin got into a vicious tug-of-war over Zander. Soon, we sped out of the house and sprinted down the block, hearing the last part of the announcement.

Zander dragged me along. He was more muscular than me and nearly tugged my arm from its socket as we ran. I had no idea where we were going but I had to trust him enough to steer me in the right direction.

I was still wondering why I saved him. Why did I bother to hide in a pool when I can't even swim? I heard the Careers and thought it was the best way to hide my scent. When Zander stumbled into sight, I saw he was, well, not a Career and figured he needed to hide too. Not my most well thought out plan but we were still alive and allied together. The only complaint was that my dress was slightly chafing.

Oh, that, and the fact that we were running for our lives!

We travelled around the corner and were met by an expanse of grass.

"A school," I noted. "Up ahead." Of course, there'd be a bomb shelter in a school. "How did you know that was there?" I wheezed from my rasping lungs. Zander remained silent, simply smirking mischievously. I finally had the sense to tear my hand away. We can't nearly run as fast holding hands, despite common movie belief. Zander began to pull farther ahead, able to pump his arms to the fullest extent. Are the Gamemakers actually going to drop bombs on us? It didn't seem likely, but it's the Mutant Games - nothing is ever normal

We circled around, not sure exactly what to look for. Finally, I found a block of cement with doors set into it horizontally, at a slight angle upwards. Zander swung it open and stone stairs led down to a basement below. We exchanged a look.

"Ladies first," Zander gestured. Hesitantly, one foot after the other, I crept down. There was no railing and I kept at least one hand pressed to the wall to maintain some bearing. All light was blocked out as Zander closed the doors behind us. The sirens were instantly muffled, our ragged breaths echoing through the cellar.

"Gah!" Zander shouted. His tall silhouette thrashed the air and I yanked off my shoe as a last resort weapon. I raised it above my head, inching toward him. It was a trap! This was all just a trap.

_Click!_

I'm momentarily blinded by a light and shield my eyes with the saddle shoe. Peeking through the gaps in my fingers, a bulb burned dimly, casting just enough light for me to see. Shadows were thrown over Zander's handsome face, but I could see he was grinning.

"So, yeah, don't worry. The cord to the light switch may have decided to try to kill me, but I think I showed it who's boss," he stated, crossing his arms across his chest. A nervous laugh works up from my chest and I wrap my arms around myself.

"Great." I stumbled away, trailing my hands along the walls once again. On the far wall, I discovered shelving units, complete with water, food, blankets, clothes and medical supplies. Zander peered at the contents from over my shoulder.

"So what do you think we do now?" he asked. I stiffened beneath his hand as he grasped my shoulder, holding in a breath. Zander was completely unfazed by how close he stepped to me. It's like he didn't even realize it. Zander isn't stupid; he may not have all his common sense all the time but he has a few worthy brain cells. He was able to bring us here, wasn't he?

"Wait it out, I guess." I pulled a folded blanket from the shelf and it brought down a jumble to the floor. My ally kneeled beside me to help reorder them and I swept a strand of dark brown hair from my eyes to behind my ear.

Zander spread one of the blankets out across the floor. Warmth flooded my cheeks as he started tugging at his collar, yanking off his shirt.

"What are you d-doing?" I snapped. I protectively crossed my arms around me, feeling the blush creep to my neck.

"Changing," Zander stated, his tone obviously confused. "You wouldn't let me change after we fell in the pool and these clothes are starting to get itchy." He snatched a shirt and pants from the shelves, laying them on the blanket. I spun around as his hands went to his waistband.

"Yes, I realize that," I retorted. "But…you just don't start changing in front of people like that…it's, like, modesty…." I could fry an egg on my face if I wanted to.

"Oh," Zander said. He seriously sounded surprised! "I didn't think about it. It's, you know, just my body. You learn about that sort of stuff in health class so it shouldn't be so new…." His voice trailed off.

I stay with my back to him, ducking my head. I must be red all the way to my toes. I swore I could feel them blossoming with warmth too. "I'm done changing, Chrys." Slowly, I faced him again, exhaling out the tense breath of air in my lungs. He turned all the way around to show he was dressed, smiling innocently.

"Done being so prude?" Stiffly, I nodded. "You must be uncomfortable in those clothes though…."

"I'm fine," I blurted, swiftly snatching a blanket and bottle of water and moving to the corner of the room. I was dry from the pool dip but a change of clothes would be nice, as I could still smell the chlorine on the fabric. The Stiff in me just didn't trust Zander enough.

I wasn't nearly tired but closed my eyes and laid my head back on the wall.

_**Lupe Ismene, District 11**_

The movement inside the homes would lead me to believe it was best to move on from my current position.

Although, I didn't trust this "bomb warning"; I, knowing quite a bit on what it takes to distract people, figured it'd only be just that, a distraction. The Gamemakers were hoping to get us to come together and presumably try to hack each other apart.

Now, you may be wondering "Why, Lupe, did you kill and threaten away your alliance? Bro may have been a two-timer, but Xavier would have at least been helpful?" Maybe I should have kept Bro around a little longer, just to keep activities interesting, Xavier as well. But revealing Bro's alliance secret had been a fun and Xavier's exit kept things moving. A day later, though, I needed to figure out something else to spice up the Games.

In a way, I respect the Gamemakers. No, I don't agree with them, seeing as they're trying to kill me. However, they always managed to make life intriguing, for better or for worse. What's life without something to spice it up? It just gets boring if you don't add anything to it.

Suddenly, my foot hooked on a tree root and I flew forward. My hands flew out in front of me just in time to stop the face plant bound to occur between me and the ground. Instantly, I tensed. I wouldn't do something so stupid. That tree had been burrowed in the dirt.

Sitting up, I withdrew a knife and examined the root. It wrapped around, up my ankle, and slowly began to constrict the blood flow. I worked the blade across the tree to free myself. Before I could get too far in, it recoiled. Pins and needles jabbed my veins from the inside as the blood worked through again.

Air was cut from my lungs as a branch wrapped around my neck, jerking me skyward. I dangled there, midair, kicking and flailing uselessly. I could just appear over there, on the roof of that house. I just needed to divert its attention….

It's a tree. What kind of attention span does a tree have?

I kicked at the air, struggling to try to pull myself up onto the branch. What kind of tree was this? Some mutant tree? Mutant tree….

The bark rubbed my neck raw as it swung me around and I barely managed to twist my body enough to keep my neck from bending in a way that'd easily snap it in half. From my sleeve, I frantically began to yank out a string of handkerchiefs tied together. I hastily formed a loop with the fabric, tossing it over a nearby branch and wrenching myself up. No, it wasn't working. Air, people need air!

Vibrations travelled up the trees branches, a constant thrumming beat. Through my blurred eyesight, I caught sight of a larger tribute who swung an axe at the tree's body. He was already a few inches deep.

"Silvia!" he growled. The tree, momentarily distracted, stopped thrashing me about, instead drooping my body to the ground. Squeezing the handle in my hand, I sawed away at the wood wrapped around my neck. There was definitely going to be bruising. Speaking may hurt a bit.

The branch diminishes from my fingertips. All of my weight comes to my feet and I stumbled down to the grass. A dark skinned girl glared up from beneath a tangle of multicolored hair, browns and reds and yellows with just a few tints of green. She spun around to take off, but the male tribute, Cede Demeter, I finally recognized, snatched her by her hair. She screamed, struggling to tear herself away.

"Release me!" Silvia shouted. Cede's hand tightened its grip and he held the axe high up the shaft, just beneath the blade. He grunted and there's a flash of blood as it spurts from Silvia's neck, a line from just where he dragged his axe along. There's already a gash in her side but the fire of a cannon and her slumped body told all. The neck wound was much more deadly. Silvia bled out in seconds.

Cede observed his hands, pressing his lips together as he wiped the blood off on his pants, the sticky liquid smeared across where he brushed his thigh. His eyes rose to me and I just barely able to hide my knives back in my sleeves.

Without any witty banter, Cede hefted his axe up over his shoulder and sprinted towards me, screaming a battle cry. I sidestepped it, swiveling around to face him again. The boy twirled around and I noted with sly satisfaction how he winced with the movement. His shoulder was injured.

"Ole!" I cried, sweeping my arms grandly. Cede came at me again and I leapt away to his weak side. The blade appeared from my sleeve and I skim it along his back. The boy grunted again, glaring at being deceived so easily. If I could do that wiggle thing with my eyebrows, I probably would have done that. Cede swept at me again and I flicked a knife towards him. He drew the axe up and the blade pinged against it, metal against metal. Cede's attention was brought to this for the fraction of a second I needed.

Looking up, the District Seven boy jerked back in surprise as I seemingly disappeared. I swiftly swing my knife around, dig it between his ribs, puncturing a lung, and gave it a twist. Cede shuttered and swung around again to slice at me. I kangarooed back and his axe's blade dragged along my stomach. Blood blossomed on my shirt and I frown in dismay.

The other tribute collapsed, pulling the knife from him. His breaths sounded rattily and cause me to cringe with every attempt for oxygen. He began to slump forward on his hands and knees. With my foot, I nudged the blade away and scooped it up when a safe distance away. Cede scowled at me, but the ferocity was fading rapidly.

"Pleasure to have your assistance," I tipped my hat to him-well, I would have if I had one-and walked off in solemn silence. It's not long before Cede's cannon fires.

I jogged down the road and stopped by a set of doors by a cellar near a supermarket. I peered at the handles and the solid metal used to construct the doors.

A hand wrapped around my collar and cold metal pressed to my neck. Great.

"You'll be bunking with us," a girl's voice hissed in my ear.

Careers. Really great.

_**Leon Cabler, District 3**_

Applying pressure to my leg, pain shot up through the tendons. I took a wobbly step, biting down on my lip. I could do it. It'd be insanely painful but I could walk.

Neve offered her arm up to me and I took it gratefully. "Thanks."

She nodded back.

We moved painstakingly slow, one foot moving in front of the other. We kept to our constant silence which we were both accustomed to from the two days. Neve stopped every now and then to examine a map as we gradually moved towards a desired location of her choice. Occasionally, when I feared she had gotten lost and she scanned the map intently, a nearby window would shatter. She took little notice of it after a while. I only had to trust she was making a decent decision. I've barely ever talked to the girl before the Games and we didn't do much of it while in the Games either.

In the bloodbath, I took a nice cut to the leg. I forget who it was, a Career, most likely. The pain was gradually increasing. It needed to be cleaned, to have something happen to it.

"Not much left," Neve said softly. "We're almost there." She examined my face and frowned as I bit the inside of my cheek. She exhaled slowly.

"I'll carry you, alright?"

She relinquished her hold on my forearm, and she began to grow in my sights. She wasn't growing, really, only that I was shrinking. I blinked at her ankles, hobbling awkwardly on three of my legs, before Neve hefted me up into her arms. She was careful to avoid my wound, adjusting the fabric as I had shrunk under the tie.

We covered ground faster now. Neve's saddle shoes drummed against the pavement and then thudded on grass. I twisted my neck about to see our destination, only receiving a glimpse of a building as its two stories loomed overhead.

Neve laid me on the grass as she opened a set of doors. I morphed to normal size and thumped down the steps on my rear end, Neve moving behind me. She shut the doors and walked along beside me. I cringed up at her, struggling to force a smile for her.

We stopped at the bottom of the stairs, mainly because of the large growling lion glaring at us. We both raised our hands up defensively.

"Easy, boy," I whispered. "We don't want any trouble." The lion pounced and the pain screamed in my leg as I tossed it up over my head. I grappled with the creature, rolling over on the steps and slamming its head into the stone steps. Its claws drove into my skin and it released a roar. Neve skirted away, yelping with fright.

"Stop!" she demanded. We had no weapons. What were we going to do?

Neve screamed and the light of the bulb floating in the room shattered. Sparks rained down and we were thrust into complete darkness.

"Zander! Zander, stop!"

The lion smashed me into the wall on the stairwell, leaping back and growling again. My head throbbed and I struggled for breath.

We stared at each other's dark outlines and I saw the lion grown to a human form. Hesitantly, a girl's voice, one that did not belong to Neve, asked, "Do you guys have any weapons?"

I shook my head.

"No," Neve said finally. Gah, obviously the pair can't see us, precisely me shaking my head. "You?"

"Only a shoe," the guy, Zander, responded. I laughed dryly at this.

"And some claws."

He laughed too, and I noted how breathless his voice was. The transforming must take a lot of energy.

We were all quiet and I heard someone drop tiredly to the floor. "Can we not kill each other right now?" I suggested. "Just until this bomb thing ends. Then we'll go our separate ways."

There was a patch of silence. Neve stumbled forward, reaching blindly for me. I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and guided her to sit at the foot of the steps beside me. She ran her own hands along my arms. I could practically imagine the disapprovingly look of concentration on her face as she realizes she'll need to patch me up.

"Fine," the girl tribute said. "But afterwards, we're just adversaries again."

"Agreed."

**I'd like to blame my math teacher for making me miss the new Young Justice and Legend of Korra, as I went to her morning extra help where we did quite little.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two_(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen<strong>


	30. End of Day Two: Mental Fist

**Okay, screw the schedule. I'm updating whenever the hell I can.**

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

When the sirens began, I instinctively ducked beneath the table. I covered my ears and whimpered, hoping it'd just end already. I would never be able to find the bunker and when Ghost Boy did it before, it had only been some trick on the District Seven tribute, right? I rocked slightly, squeezing shut my eyes. There was too much noise, too much stimulation, from the outer world and the little voices that continued to drone on.

_Eek! It's so loud._

_There's people moving out there…but they aren't people…_

_Duncan, that made no sense!_

_You make no sense._

_Hey, losers, shut up or I will kick your ass into the next dimension._

I stopped rocking at this voice. Ghost Boy. I still haven't found out his name.

_Have you ever asked, Dolly?_

"You don't seem to know my name either." The other little ghosts went silent in my head so this certain occupant could be heard. He sighed.

_Something about this damn arena keeps making me speak all old timey. Dolly is like some term of endearment. I'd typically be calling you something like "sweetheart" in a sarcastic manner if I could control what came out of my mouth. If you like to know, yes, I do know your name, _Avara_. Erone mentioned it._

"Erone? Erone Thorn?"

_Wow, he must be famous amongst you dead types._

"He was from my district."

The boy snorted. _Yeah, Erone mentioned you._

"What did he say?"

_To not talk to you. _There was a pause. _I don't exactly listen to what some dead little kid says. Especially one who is on his period as often as he is. Oh, you may need to run now._

"What? You still haven't told me your name?" I slam my palms into the black and white tile, scooting myself forward on my bottom to climb out from under the table. "Please, don't go again. Run from what?"

This question was swiftly answered as a plastic hand snatched my wrist. It dragged me out, my thin body weightless to it.

I flailed desperately, landing a punch to the mannequin's face. I barely made a scratch and it clenched my throat in its plastic hand. It hauled me to my feet then up into the air altogether. Like a snake, it began to tighten, constricting my neck and cutting off air flow and circulation. I kicked at its center but couldn't make a dent. Each swing at less and less force and all my legs wanted to do was just dangle. So badly, I wanted to scream, but couldn't. Red stained my vision and I refused to allow myself to enter that state. My body would be free for the ghosts and I don't know what kind of condition I'd get it back in.

So I allowed myself to slip away. The voices screamed various demands at me, to run, to give in, to fight. You'd expect them to fade out but they only intensified, like I was there. Through my blurry gaze, I saw their silhouettes. Many wore the same arena outfits they died in. Except for one….

The mannequin's head shattered and I collapsed to the floor in a heap. As soon as I hit the floor, though, I was thrust back onto my feet, across the room, right the doorframe that leads into the living room. Pain shot through the back of my head.

"What is it about run don't you understand?" Ghost Boy growled. He was a strong spirit. Not many could make themselves solid enough lift a feather, let alone shove me across the room. He leaned close, slamming a hand against the wall by my head as a support.

"But…but you just di-disappeared…" I stammered.

He narrowed his hazel eyes. If he had breath, I'd be able to smell it. "You can't have me saving your ass every time you get in trouble! You need to do things on your own if you're going to survive!"

"Then why did you help me in the first place?" I tried to shove him away but my hand went through his chest.

"You tell me, Fee!" He sucked in a breath, flinching backwards.

"Fee?" I inquired. "Is that another old 'term of endearment'?"

He scowled one last time, but his eyes darted furtively up to me from the floor. "Just save yourself for once."

A shadow of a smirk appeared on his face before he disappeared.

I wanted to scream. Something inside me just wanted to be released. I'm allowing some ghost to control me. That's how it's always been. They all control me, tell me what to do. It bought me so much guilt and displeasure. I was sinking deeper and deeper into insanity.

"I can save myself," I mumbled. My little friends went on in my head, giving their input on the situation.

_Yes, because the table is providing such a useful weapon._

_Hiding is cowardice. I wouldn't have gone down without a fight._

_I think you should listen to him. Bad stuff about to happen in three, two, one…._

The announcer carried one final message. "Your warning is over."

The windows shattered, tiny pieces scattering everywhere. A high pitched siren, more like a poking murmur to the mind than an actual sound, turned my nerves to jelly and my teeth ground down. A white gas began to drift in, like a dense fog. It wrapped around me and brought me down, down to my knees. I felt so…sleepy. The floor didn't seem so nice to sleep on, those little shards stabbing my flesh. But it was just so welcoming. It practically said to lie down and just…sleep.

My head grew heavy and collided with the floor.

_**Xavier Drascal, District 13**_

Another two cannons fired, one not long after another, maybe a minute. Those are…nine deaths now? So, uh…

I counted on my fingers, backwards from twenty six.

…Seventeen left? That seems about right.

Now it'd be better if I could just find a bomb shelter. I mean, I should be able to find one. I'm the only District Thirteen tribute left. I never quite understood Chelsey, although, she never quite understood me. No one ever understood me. I don't even understood me. I mean, understand me. Which I don't.

What was I saying?

Yes, I'm the only District Thirteen person left. I should be able to find an underground shelter. We're the masters of underground things! District Twelve? Puh-lease, we lived in the ground. Enough ranting.

Maybe I should have worked more often. More specifically not slacked off. No, I could have slacked off plenty and worked down in the graphite mine. I'm under eighteen so I would have just picked off all the pebbles the guys with sharp pickaxes, um, picked at.

My sneakers pounded the pavement as I frantically ran, screaming bloody murder. My body motions didn't exactly match my arms and it probably left the Capitolites laughing their asses off. I imagined a ram or something running up and slamming its horns up my rump. Why was I imagining something like that at a time like this? I don't know!

I glanced over my shoulder, a girlish scream coming up from my throat. No, they're just going to send scary ass mannequin dudes after me. Their running was slightly labored and hobbling. This is the freaking zombie apocalypse with mannequins! Freaky mannequins with poodle skirts and sweaters and Hawaiian shirts. What is a Hawaiian? I don't know!

Why do I keep answering my own questions? Simply, I have no idea.

I skimmed through a garden and tripped over a garden gnome. My foot came down hard on its pointed hat and pain shot through my ankle as it twisted uncomfortably. I face planted the dirt, skidding with my mouth open across the ground. I spat the contents that collected on my tongue. You'd think I'd be used to the taste.

"I hate dirt," I mumbled, warily looking to the mannequins again. Their pace had slowed, wobbly and shaking. They're slowing? Obviously they are. I just answered my own question again. I needed to stop. But they were slowing. Now to a walk…to a teeter…a crawl….

The mannequins, one-by-one, began to plummet. Their plastic bodies lay on the ground unmoving. I grabbed the stupid gnome and chucked it at one to ensure it wasn't still alive. At least, still moving. The gnome shattered by the head of a one with a big beehive hairdo. Everything was still.

"Your warning is over."

Magical voice, not in my head.

I froze in place. Well, what do I do now? I didn't find the shelter. Nothing was going on.

Hah, didn't answer my own question there.

I collapsed to the ground, my chest heaving. The sky was so blue. How could something so bad be happening?

A white cloud drifted by. You know, it sort of looks like a bunny. A nice, fluffy bunny. Bunnies are so nice.

There's another cloud. That one's a little wispier. It's like I'm in the cloud, or more like the cloud is around me. It's not really a cloud but more like fog. Thick fog…and it's all around me…

A thick, nauseating cloud. Ah, shit.

I shot up but my head instantly began spinning. Ow! Too fast, too fast. Slower movements, that'd help. I looked around, pressing my thumb to my right temple. A metal cylinder clattered by me and more of the thick white gas began spewing out. They were falling from the sky! This is fucking insane!

The cylinder clicked several times before emitting a high-pitched squeal. I clapped my hands over my ears. Streetlights shattered. My limbs weakened and eyelids fell heavy.

"Five more minutes, Mommy," I whispered. "Five more…."

My whole body numbed, including the pain my ankle. Before I could finish the line, I was splayed across the dirt. More effin' dirt.

_**Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four**_

"Not sure if I've made this understood before," Foe mumbled. "But I hate Bree."

Earlier, we came to find Balthizar and Alice Lynn missing while Bree was unconscious and Shale dead. She briefly explained the District Five girl's trick and the blow she dealt to our stocky ally. Foe showed little nostalgia for the boy's death. Her face was merely a line lipped grimace, more worried and unnerved about the person pretending to be her.

There had already been two more cannons. Late afternoon was coming.

Bree insisted she scout the area for the shape shifter. She knew she was walking on thin ice. It wouldn't be hard to convince Foe into killing her in her sleep tonight. I don't doubt she's considering persuading me the same thing at this point.

She's not too…stable. She lets her ego stand in her way. All you have to do is question her bravery, her strength, her confidence, and she'll be quick to prove you wrong. It's her downfall. A so obvious downfall.

Killing her will be all too enjoyable.

"I figured as much," I laughed humorlessly. "Who does like Bree?"

We looked at each other, simultaneously saying, "The Capitol." Grim laughter followed. Foe plucked a bothersome strand of hair dancing in front of her face and pouted at it, unconsciously stroking her burns. We sat in the bunker with only the small light bulb. I had set up some of the pots I found to try to reflect some light and it worked slightly.

"It'd probably be better if we got rid of her now before she gets us first," Foe said, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was bone weary. I'd definitely have to be the one to do it.

"You sure?" I asked. Of course she was sure.

"I'm sure." I nodded, as if processing this. I'd try to go with the flow but Bree was too much. It'd be a whole lot easier to just kill her now.

I leaned back on the wall. "How should it be done?" The hilt of the knife hidden in my belt pressed into my back. I kept my hands busy by running my fingers along the sharpened blade of my sword.

Foe shrugged. "When she walks in, just kill her then. Not sure how the body will be moved." She chugged down a bottle of water, pouring the few remaining drops atop of her burns. She sighed with relief as she grabbed another bottle. "But we'll deal with it. Let's hope we get out soon."

Thankfully, there wasn't enough light for Foe to see the cynical smile stretching along my face.

Scores needed to be settled. Balthy and Alice ran off on their own. Taking down Balthy one-on-one would be hard and with his range weapons, he had the distance. By Bree's description of Alice Lynn's meltdown and that black plume we saw shoot from the ground, I knew Alice would be even harder to battle. Divide and conquer would be the best bet. Catch the girl off-guard. Distract Balthy with something shiny and unusual looking.

Foe casted me a fleeting look, one I barely caught from the corner of my eye. There would be a time where we finally parted ways. We both knew it. We were already thinking of when the time would come.

She was still useful to me. I was still useful to her. We were to remain allies.

The bunker door cranked open and I gestured for Foe to be silent. She scooted away, warming her palms with a breath of fire. I raised the sword. Its weight comforted me as I counted the footsteps against the concrete steps. A frown creased my features. There was an extra pair of feet.

I made to swing but my arm twisted back, the sword slipping from my grip. Bree's smirking face forced a scowl onto mine and she sarcastically raised her hands up in mock defense. "Oh, Sandy, it's just me and our friend here, Fruit Loop." A boy took graceful strides down the steps, uncontrolled by Bree. His features were rather pointy and he was average height and leanly built. He swiftly closed the door shut behind him and locked it tight.

"Lupe Ismene," he introduced with a grand bow. His eyes remained deliberately focused on me. "At your service."

Bree finally released me, laying an arm on the boy. "To think, you were about to almost kill me, Sandy! Good thing I stopped you." I wanted to strangle the condescending tone right out of her throat.

"Yeah." I forced a grin. "So, how may you two come upon each other?"

Bree gestured to Lupe who offered his sleeve to her. Or maybe she forced his arm up. She took hold of a red hanky inside and yanked it out, hand over hand, a series of hankies tied together. Lupe stiffened, his already straight posture becoming even more uptight. Bree wrapped it around Lupe's wrists and ankles, ripping one section off to make a gag.

"Well, he's now our prisoner." As if I needed confirmation, Lupe nodded. "He was snooping around outside and figured we could use another pair of eyes looking out for us rather than on us." Lupe's nostrils flayed as he breathed outwards from his nose. Foe's thin eyebrows rose curiously.

"Oh?" I said. She had something up her sleeve. A Lupe level thing up her sleeve.

Bree sat Lupe down. "We could easily kill him, you know? But there're less things of use to us. And he's District One tribute bait. Balthy and Alice Lynn are looking out for us. Not necessarily him. And they'll _adore_ his card tricks."

I remembered the kid better now. He wore that dopey top hat everywhere and did all those card tricks.

It wasn't that bad of a plan, actually. Facing Balthy and Alice head on would be hard. This could be a useful distraction if we played it right.

But Bree had other, _bigger_ intentions in mind. If Lupe hadn't walked down these steps and if Bree didn't suggest the tactic, I'd have killed her by now. Where would I be then? He's just another problem to worry about. Bree's plan was good so we had to keep him. Now I had to think up a plan, plus keep an eye on him and Bree and everyone else in the arena. She certainly made things interesting.

I allowed my sights to flicker to Foe for a moment. "Good idea." The District Two tribute widened her dark eyes on me. I shrugged indifferently.

"Looks like you're sticking with us, Lupe," Bree grinned. Foe shook her head.

"This makes no sense. Just kill him!" She glared at me, not finishing our plan.

"You just hate to admit I was useful for once," Bree snapped cheekily. I stepped between the two, pointing a finger at Foe before she could inhale a full breath.

"No fighting, you two. There are bigger priorities." The two continued glaring but went silent. This is getting easier every time they argue. "Now we need to wait."

I raised an eyebrow at Lupe. "And you. Show me one of those card tricks I've been hearing about."

_**Robin Garven, District 12**_

How the bloody hell did you think of this as a hiding spot?

I wriggled my leg which was already falling asleep in the cramped position. I tucked my knees up into my chest, aware how my grumbling stomach felt even emptier as I closed the space. It'd only be a few minutes until my feet fell asleep as well. The pins and needles already in my leg were driving me nuts.

_I saw it in that Indiana Jones movie. _You should understand those movies are all fantasy to us in Twelve. As reiterated to us, those types of things, with the treasure and adventure, will never happen. All that's expected of us is to dig in the ground and meet the quota. _He survived._

Dude, he's Indiana Jones. Of course he'd survive.

_Hey, have I ever led us wrong before? If it weren't for me, I'd have been burned to my underwear by the Fire-Breather chick._

Whatever.

I imagined my brother's smirk, my own face with brown eyes.

Can you stop being a tool?

_Can you stop being a big baby?_

Why do you always have to be that way?

_We're brothers. It's my job. You know I probably would have been born first. And you absorbed me, so you sort of owe me for all these years._

What, no! We, I don't know, absorbed or, uh, morphed together. If it weren't for you, maybe I'd have more self-confidence, you ever think of that? I'd have peace of mind.

_You know if it weren't for your awkwardness, I'd have probably been able to lose my V card by now? Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. If you are within a mile of a girl that's not our mother, you'll explode._

Jerk.

_You need to be a little more original than that, bro._

In the confined space of the refrigerator, I banged my head backwards against the wall of the interior. I adjusted my position again and the door slightly opened. I was instantly light headed as a thick white smoke streamed in. I jerked it shut, shaking its effects off.

_Smooth, Rob, smooth._

Do you want me to open it again?

_You don't have the balls to do it._

No, I don't. But I certainly have the sanity not to.

I shift again. "How long have we been here?" I murmured aloud.

_A few hours. It's probably been three hours so far that involved sitting here. Verging on four pretty soon._

It's almost nighttime, right?

_I guess._

And we're entering day three.

_Yes._

I felt my brain cells jolted about as a mental fist slam my consciousness. I have yet to learn how the bastard does it. I needed to learn how soon if I was going to survive tomorrow.

_Happy almost birthday than. _I ruefully rub my skull. It may have been a mental strike but it still hurt physically.

Do you think we'll make it to tomorrow?

Damion went silent. He was always better than me. He had better control of keeping his thoughts to himself. I only detected a few murmurs as he thought.

_If the power of Indiana Jones wills it, we'll survive the night. I mean, I have to give you the full dosage of your birthday punches, right?_

I laughed bitterly. Thanks, Dam. Thanks a lot.

**I had this ready to go but I couldn't log on to Fanfiction for whatever reason. As in, I typed in my email and password, clicked login, and it said I couldn't access the page because I had to login. So sorry.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two_(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen<strong>


	31. Day Three: Death's Little Helper

**Finals are over boys and girls; so maybe I'll be able to update a little more often.**

_**Ghost Boy**_

There are a few ground rules to cover about the whole dead thing. One; it is against all laws of nature. My dad was a teacher, specifically a science teacher who taught biology at school, back when I still had a pulse. I was taught that when things died, that was it. They died. Period.

He kindly forgot to consider that little girls don't burst into flames and boys can't summon pandas and kill people with a stroke of their skin against another's. Sure, he could think of some weird adaptation about some genetic shit to give an admirable reason why this is so. That the girl secretes gasoline sweat and has fireproof skin and the oils of the boy's body are poisonous and the boy can reach through wormholes to call upon pandas. But it's always the same thing to think about. This sort of stuff just doesn't happen. We're freaks of nature. We were against the common norm. We were against all things considered normal. People don't do this stuff.

We were all so past tense.

Another rule of being dead; I'm not here, breaking the fourth wall simply because I'm dead. You could say I'm stuck. Stuck here, between two very different places. I walked amongst the living without them knowing I was actually there. Well, most of the living. It brought me back to the whole "freak of nature" concept I was rambling about before. There's a firm difference between being dead. Every ghost was dead. But not every dead person was a ghost.

I had perched myself on top of the house, watching the sun sink low into the sky. Sunset was an amazing sight. District Thirteen never had a sight quite like this. It was underground so it obviously wouldn't. I sighed. It's the little things I miss the most. To feel air fill my lungs and warmth in my fingertips. I didn't feel cold or hot or hungry or the urge to pee. I didn't feel anything at all.

What else do I miss? Girls. That's a given. Feeling their smaller hand in my own, the soft voice, the soft skin. Sure, there were dead girls. But most were whiny and complaining and woe is me about being, well, dead. We get it. You're dead. You'll never go to prom and lose your virginity to some guy who will never call you back, never get married, and never have stupid, sticky little children who will be forced to live through the Games too. Move on. I moved on pretty fast. I'm one of the strongest mutant ghosts there is. I've realized how much I hate those girls, the weak ones who couldn't stand up for themselves. I used to like those kinds of girls. The easier ones were great for like a day or two. But when you were me, that's all you needed.

Below, ghosts were out. None had the ability to strengthen themselves to a fully visible appearance. Their wispy outlines, only visible to someone of their own kind such as myself, moved down the path. Some travelled in groups, others in ones or twos. None looked at all cheery. A girl no older than twelve sobbed. Her cries for help were irksome. Everyone veered around her. She was weak and faded to almost nothingness.

"What did I tell you?" I've long but gotten used to this prick popping out of nowhere.

"Erone, what in purgatory could you be talking about?" I asked, raising a questioning eyebrow towards the boy. He looked exactly the way he died. Gray eyes, with just a few specks of green in the irises, stared hard at me and dark shaggy hair stuck in a ruffled look on his head. He was healthier looking now than when he died. From what the sane tributes have told me, with every new arena, the tributes' ghosts bear the clothes of the Games, hence the stupid '50s style. Erone, on the other hand, had some immunity to it. He instead wore a black hooded robe. His entire face was visible to me, defying all laws of nature as it should have been cast into the shadow of the setting sun.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Ip," he spat. "I told _you_ specifically. And what do you do? You do it any way."

"Finally, you understand me," I smirked. "Please, allow us to sit and discuss the matter over some tea and freshly baked cookies." Erone didn't move an inch. He shook his head tiredly and crossed his arms across his chest.

"I've gotten a lot smarter over the past months," he said. "I know when you're avoiding a question." Pulling his hood down, he strode forward. Ah, _now_ he moved.

I pressed my lips together, amused. "Oh, and little 'ole me has only gotten so much stupider. Can't do a single thing for himself." Erone sat beside me. "We can't all be death's little helper."

Twilight was settling over the landscape, the yellow light subdued by the white gas slowly clearing the air. The dangers would only get worse. The Capitol was bored. I was bored.

We sat there, watching the sunlight fall. "You can't help Avara any further."

"Oh?"

"Don't give me that bullshit. You can't help or assist Avara any longer. She needs to fight her own battle." Erone wrung his hands out. "And before you snap back with some comment, remember, you are walking on thin ice. Thin. One more slip up, one more, and I swear to Panem, I will send you off."

I groaned, falling back onto the roof. "Don't you get it, Erone? She's going to die. Mr. Grim Reaper wants her to die. Avara can't fight for herself. She's unstable. She has zero chance of survival. She'll end up like you. Some pathetic little assistant helping move along kids who are flat out demented, just like you. But also, just like me."

Erone launched upwards, jerking me upwards by my collar. I dangled midair while Erone effortlessly floated. The youthfulness of his fourteen years of life was drained, and his face appeared timeless. Shadowy extremities wrapped about me and pinned my limbs to my sides.

"Don't compare me to you!" he growled. "I am nothing like you."

"Or so you say." Erone's fist tensed, all the anger burning up and up. Gradually, he calmed and the shadows to have appeared from the folds of his cloak dissipated. I dropped to the roof once again and Erone lowered himself down.

"I know it's been rough for you. The Games, your sister's death, your death. The deaths you caused." Sure, add that in there to your list. "There's a reason you can't move on."

"Because we are so opposite," I snarled. "The bitch gets to live it up in high places while I'm here. I'm lucky I'm not in hell. Ah, look at that irony. Killed the girl on fire and doomed to burn forever."

Erone rested an arm on my shoulder. A strange gesture, considering I was forced to look down at him. "Ip, if you didn't have potential, you'd be in hell already. Obviously, you haven't done good things. It's why people like Olive and Fiona have already passed on to the next life. You may be a dick but a complete dick wouldn't have gone back to his sister, wouldn't have taken such anger in defeating her killer. Your time will come."

I began to calm. I pulled Erone's hand from my shoulder and back away. "Why shouldn't I help Avara?"

Erone kept his eyes level, actually pausing before responding. "Because you've already lived your life. She needs to live it without any supernatural occurrences, the way it should play out."

"And deny her gift?" I inquired. "That's what you called it. Admit it; you don't want _me_ helping her. You're fine with all those other loons taking a shot. You'll probably be helping her too. But me? Why not me specifically?"

Erone rolled his eyes. "Because you're growing fond of her. I knew you would."

Honestly not expecting that. "What? No, that's stupid!"

"You finally have someone to talk to. Someone who can respond. Someone who doesn't know who you are and your reputation." Erone sighed outwardly. "At least, not yet. But, above everything else, who is actually alive and breathing."

"Stop it," I spat. "I'm not getting attached. She's so limp and she isn't exactly my type of gal, you know?"

I hopped off the room, landing painlessly on the ground. Erone called after me, "Just be careful on what you're doing! Nothing too extreme! Hunter only lasted a day in limbo before Grim had enough of her!" I was surprised the girl was given a chance at all. I'm surprised I was ever given a chance.

Many tributes veered around me as I walked past. Most of the old crew was gone already. Many took an elevator straight up, no stops. Those include Fiona, Olive, Kalel, and Nugget, so on, so forth. Some had to hang around here a little longer before passing or getting the boot. Then there are those who are still around. Like…

"Ippetra! Ippetra Flycactus."

Like Harmony.

It's like meeting your ex-girlfriend. But instead of having knocked her up and leaving, you left her to die with a bunch of robot mutts.

She jogged up to me, which was a surprise in itself. Usually, she'd stick her nose up and stride by like I was nothing. And jogging, she'd never be caught doing such a labor-intensive action.

"Ippetra!" she called again. Oh, another thing she's discovered; I hate being called Ippetra. That's a girl name and I have cursed my parents since the day I first attended school. Ip just carried a swagger you'd expect in an asshat such as me.

"What." Not even asking it with inflection.

"Oh, don't give me plain old 'What'. Guess. Just guess."

"That dress doesn't make you look fat?"

Harmony scowled momentarily but it melted into a smirk. Her lips were still blue from her, uh, watery death. "Erone told me about an hour ago. I've been okayed to take my door."

I froze. "Taking your door", for those of you who may not know, meant moving on to the afterlife in death lingo.

"How?" I finally forced out. "You're still…_you_."

She grinned. "See, that's the thing. Death deemed my bitchiness okay because I only act like this around you." Wow. "It took some talking but I've been passed."

"And you're rubbing it in my face now? What a good angel you are."

Harmony shook her head, taking my hand in hers. "Well, if I had tracked you down to do just that, I wouldn't be going, now, would I?" She checked her wrist, as if she had a watch, and flicked her wavy dark brown hair from her emerald eyes. The subtle skin was marred by her death. "Ip, I think I'm actually going to miss you. Only a little. But just enough to tell you." I staggered back as she gave a quick hug before skipping away, whooping gleefully. The tone was so out of place in the surroundings.

I watched her go. How can she do it? Before me? I was trapped here forever. Stuck watching twenty-five new kids join me every year; watch them leave for having such whole hearts. Have the fucked up ones trapped here with me.

Ron had started developing a crush on Harmony. I wonder how he'd take it.

Like I care.

A voice carried out over the arena, a single sound in the silence. "You are safe to leave now tributes. The test is complete."

I needed to clear my head. Thankfully, I was right outside my destination any way. Doors have had no effect on me since death and didn't have any effect now. The one negative effect about Harmony's departure, long or short term, was that it left me to think freely on my conversation with Erone.

There was no way I'd ever like Avara. As in middle school, like-like. She's too paranoid, too twitchy. Plus, she hasn't seen a decent shower in days and a full meal in years. The girl was a stick.

Erone was kidding himself. You know, helping her would give me a little good karma.

She was still in the same spot, sprawled across the floor. Tentatively, I kneeled beside her. Ouch, the glass got some bad cuts in her hands. That'll hurt in the morning.

It took a while but I finally was able to clear the fragments away from her thin body. I couldn't possibly pull out the bits in her skin. But I slid back, satisfied. At least she won't roll onto it or something. I felt myself fade, the effort too great. Moving solid things took work.

"Am I a good little boy?" I asked the air. "Can I go be a good little angel? No?" I laughed, so badly wanting the sound to echo. It didn't. It never would.

"Screw what that dead dweeb says," I said. "I'm doing something."

I swept a strand of hair behind Avara's ear. "Check you later, Dolly."

-0-

It finally became dark and the anthem played. I watched the sky, noting every new face. It started with the District Two boy and I silently smirk to myself. The first of the Careers to fall.

Next were both Sevens. A little surprised by that. But it brought the numbers down to nine. Seventeen left, there were still plenty of dying to go on.

Now, could any of those nine be around my dimension of the world?

I strode past the school, where two groups of tributes lumbered out. Momentarily taken aback by their lack of trying to slaughter each other, I walked forward between them. The two from District Three and another guy and gal from two other districts.

"So, uh…" the good looking one said. His features almost rivaled mine. Almost, mind you.

"Thank you for allowing us to bunk with you," the girl beside him said. She stepped forward, reaching straight through me. "We appreciate it. Not sure how the gas would react…"

"We'll find out," the lithe looking boy from three said. Using his partner as support, he hobbled forward and clasped hands with the girl. I stepped out from their hold and both shivered, without realizing it.

"If there's anything going down," District Three girl said. "We have your back as long as you have ours."

Blah, blah, blah, bore, bore. No throats being ripped out here.

They began to part ways and I decided to go check out the other tributes.

In a flash, I was across town, peeking into one of the windows of a small café. Looks like this group couldn't find a shelter in time.

I squinted further. Oh, shit. Ms. PJ must be tearing her hair out. I'm surprised this little doppelgänger hasn't been killed by a giant ass bolt of lightning yet.

Both were still passed out. The glass was blown out here too.

I really didn't like the thirteen year old. She was a bothersome little bitch. Too outspoken, too… well, bitchy.

A boy climbed out from a fridge in a house I appeared in, collapsing to the floor and crying out in pain. "Charlie horse! Charlie horse!" His hands wrapped about his calf. "I _am_ stretching it out! It still hurts like a bitch! Stop laughing at me."

District Twelve certainly was a fucked up place.

Awkwardly, I backed away through a wall before hightailing out of there.

My other field research proved yet another tribute to be passed out in a garden. I didn't like him either. He was a bit saner than Aries and a little more perverted. But the creep matched Aries' wild side.

Looking up the street, I cringed at his oncoming fate. Pin points of light in the form of sweeping beams settled their gaze on him.

"Wow, isn't that great," a tanned District Four girl boasted. "He passed out in plain sight. I'm certain I almost had mistaken him for a garden gnome or one of those old lady figures with the really big butts."

She twirled a trident in her grip, grinning at the easy prey. A boy with a deck of cards conveniently in his hands looked past her. His face hardened up momentarily as he must have recognized the boy. Rope was bound about his shoulders and his legs, just enough to allow him to walk, just not run.

The male Career, not quite as tall as the other boy but twice as buff, released his sword from his scabbard. "I'll do it."

"No, Sandy Boy," Four said, the menacing smile crossing her face. "I got him."

She strode forward and partner appeared downtrodden by the fact she'd be the one to lay the final blow. Alright, here's something about me; I may have killed a few people in my time, but I never found joy in it. I didn't wake up each day in the Games thinking "Oh, yes, who will I enjoy hearing the screams of today?" I'm not psychotic. I'm no Hunter or Devmani or this chick. Hunter at least did it for the fun, not the actual action of killing another human being.

Sandy Boy's mouth pressed into a thin line and I sensed the anger boiling deep within. He certainly hated the girl, hated her for taking his kill and just for being around him. I say, why not kill her now?

He blew out a weary breath. No, not yet. She's still of use.

The thinner Career cracked her knuckles, cocking her hip to the side as she watched.

Four kicked the unconscious boy over to his back, his face visible now in the light of their flashlights. She leaned down to listen to his breaths. Slowly, she rose the trident up. I glanced to the magic boy. His eyes flickered away as the weapon was thrust downwards.

_Boom!_

I didn't need to see this any longer.

A little girl hummed cheerfully as I came upon the next duo. The seemed to have found a bomb shelter but the guy was asleep, curled into a little ball. The girl sat atop of him, twirling her brown-haired pigtails around her tiny fingers. Suddenly, she perked her sights up into the night.

"Balthy?" she whispered. She poked his eyelids. It flickered open to reveal soft brown irises.

"Hmm?" His hand wrapped around the crossbow nearby. His eyes instantly widened to view the landscape and swept the scenery.

"It's dark out there."

I face palmed as he went into an in depth explanation on why it was dark, using words my sister and father would be proud of and left me feeling like a dumbass. If I weren't dead already, I would have killed myself.

None of the street lights worked. The only light was that of the moon and it cast mindboggling shadows that caused the imagination to wander. I swore the dark outlines were nipping at my heels. The path a walked showed no sign of me walking by. No indentation in the dirt, no shadow. Nothing.

Cold. Hunger. Pain. I wanted to feel it so badly. I wanted to feel the grooves of the brick as I ran my hand over it. Its solidness was there but nothing else. I wanted to feel it. Feel something.

The only feelings I had were locked up within me. They were so much harder to handle then the physical trauma. Glancing behind me for any wanderer trailing behind me, I ducked into a side alley. Tears, god, I never cried. I never, _ever_ cried. I wish I had done it a little more often. The memory would be there for me to draw upon and enjoy the time where I could actually release the pain.

I folded my legs into myself and wept. I've never been so alone. The sobs weren't rattling, though. My sides felt numb, like always. Pain, I was so open to dropping into hell just to be swallowed by a somatic feeling.

The Games broke me.

**I'm interested in what you guys have to say for this one.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two_(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	32. Day Three: Morning of Broken Glass

_**Leon Cabler, District 3**_

"Nice people," I murmured.

"Yes," Neve commented. "They didn't kill us."

"If any future alliance is needed, I think we have one. Like those tributes from last year."

Neve grunted with my weight leaning heavily on her shoulder. I was a head taller than her-she was quite a bit smaller. Me having to be dragged around wasn't helping either of us. The dark sky was only just beginning to brighten up and, with the streetlights shattered, we walked as shadows through the dark. Neve suddenly yelped and I stumbled to the concrete as her hold on me loosened. Shards of glass pressed into my palms, warm wet liquid now dripping along my flesh. I sat up and I saw my hands were now a black color. No, it wasn't black. It merely appeared black in the lighting. They were actually red with my blood.

"Sorry," Neve whispered. "A piece of glass nabbed me through my shoe." She stood on one foot to examine the bottom of the other, plucking the shard in one deft movement.

"Uh, a piece of glass nabbed me-" I cringed at the sight of my arms and the pain radiating through them "-everywhere."

Neve groped for what I was talking about and instantly recoiled when her hands touched my bleeding appendages. She carefully grabbed me by my upper arms and helped me to my feet once again. I applied pressure to my leg and a stronger pain shot up from there. I groaned and fell forward. My partner groaned and staggered back a few steps before I could regain my balance.

"It's worse than I thought," she mumbled through gritted teeth. "Move here."

"Should you carry me?" I proposed. I prepared to shrink down when Neve laid her hands on my shoulders.

"No. It may make the cuts worse."

We hobbled a few more feet to the nearest house she could find. She leaned me against it, squinting through the dark to see my wounds.

"Raise your hands." I did as I was told and, slowly, Neve began probing my hands, picking out the bits. I winced and gnawed on my lip with each piece she plucked out.

"And as you mentioned before," she said. Her hands were average sized, smaller than mine, and steady. When she was playing doctor for you, it was a relief. "Those tributes never met up with each other again, did they?"

"None of them won," I shrugged. "You got me there. Ow!"

"Sorry," she said, not sounding too apologetic about it. Neve breathed slowly. From a bag she took from the shelter, she drew a canteen bottle and trickled lukewarm water onto my hand. I sucked in air through my teeth as she picked an especially deep shard from my palm. "Keep still."

I laid my head back, letting her work. "I feel I should thank you for helping me like this." My ally remained silent. "I haven't been much use and I know I've just been dragging you down with you having to, uh, drag me around."

I dropped off from there, leaving Neve to work. Her hair was falling forward from where it was pinned back and she stopped periodically to loop a lock back behind her ear. Cicadas chirped merrily and I felt something crawl up my leg. The urge to slap at it quaked through me put I forced myself to retrain it. It would only consequent in me driving the glass deeper beneath my flesh. Possibly Neve being more bothered too. No, she isn't _bothered_ by this. Just extremely focused. Frankly, I'd take her as an ally over some compassionate but panicky and shaky girl any day.

Of course, that's how my options were played out. Can't exactly change the current situation either way.

"This may be painful," Neve said. "But we'll need to get you from here, over to behind the house where those bushes are." She seemed to be pointing somewhere, but in this darkness, I couldn't begin to guess what she was talking about. Looping an arm behind me, she helped me to a standing position. I simply bounced on one foot while Neve led me along. At her okay, I plopped to the ground. I succeeded in bashing my head backwards against the house. It's actually true; if you hit your head hard enough, you see stars. It wasn't even those pretty kinds of stars.

"Ouch!" I whimpered, rubbing my head sheepishly. Neve collapsed backwards. She sighed slowly from her mouth.

"We're lucky; there weren't too many windows back here. No glass to walk on."

I pluck a piece, wincing as blood spewed from the cut. "That's a relief."

More awkward silence. Great. "Those too were interesting. The guy especially." I stretch my legs, breathing through my nose as the pain radiated through the wound. "I would love to go to District Five one of these days and see what they put in their water."

Neve commented, "Zander was quite flirtatious."

"I'm pretty sure he was coming on to me," I joked. Neve laughed. The girl could actually emit such a sound? I was honestly taken aback, not incredibly so, but it brought a smile to my face.

"You must be used to that," Neve stated. The grass rustled with her movement as she shifted into a comfortable sitting position.

"Flirting? Nah," I waved off. "I mean, not really. I guess once or twice. People don't talk to me as much as they used to, with the whole fiasco with my dad and all."

"Fiasco?" Why did I bring this up? That was stupid, Leon.

I hesitate, hoping Neve would withdraw the question. But it was out there, out in the open. I sighed. "Uh, yeah. About ten years ago, when I was seven, my dad worked in the factories. Pretty generic. People weren't too comfortable around the mutants and all, even back then, as you most likely know. Out of the blue, he had this heart attack while on the job. He had no control and ended up morphing into a bull-that was his mutation, turning into a bull-and everyone found out he was mutated. He sort of caused a kind of scene while he was a bull." I gnawed at my lip. I could barely remember the man now. Little things, really, and I struggled to hold onto those memories. He had this wiry black beard with grey streaks and a stubborn glare Mom always laughed at. What sort of clothes did he wear? How long would he spend his days working at the factories?

I remember that; how late he'd get home in the evening. He'd rustle up my hair and Tobias's and collapse in his big chair, his snores echoing through the house.

"I'm sorry," Neve whispered.

I snorted. "You did nothing wrong. And all your apologies are forgiven." I winked but it went unnoticed. "I didn't even know he was a mutant. The whole cat thing didn't develop up until I was twelve. Even then, it was only the nails. Full out paw and whiskers and tail worked last year. Practice," I waggled a finger at her, "makes perfect."

My mind wandered for a moment but didn't travel far. A spark of subdued light brightened the night for a long second, extinguished almost immediately. It came from, I realized, Neve's bag. She tossed it off her shoulder onto the ground before us. She gingerly prodded her hand inside.

"Oh," she said. Off a shining surface, the moonlight is reflected. There are several pieces and Neve laughs grimly. "It appears we did have a flashlight."

This was what happened when Neve's mind wandered. She blew things up.

"You don't get much practice, do you?"

Neve rose, dusting her hands off on her torn skirt. "I'm going to try to search for other tributes and plan for future movements." The bag's audible zipping sound filled the silence and she passed me the water and a small packet of food. I fumbled with it but managed to lay it down without worsening my wounds.

"Don't die," I called, only half kidding.

Neve paused and must have made some sort of gesture like a nod. "You're right, Leon; I don't practice."

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

The ceiling above me spun, slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes unable to focus on the boards that constructed it. I blinked off the bleariness in my eyes, or at least attempted to. I sat up, only for all four walls to start whirling about, like I was the center of a merry-go-round. From minor cracks, sunlight peeked in, bringing the shed's interior into shadows. A dull pain ate away at the surface of my brain and I shakily got to my feet.

So, instead of killing us, the gas made us loopy. Alright. I could deal with that. I ordered, I mean, asked Annabelle to cover up any openings. She obviously missed a few.

Kicking open the doors, I squinted up at the sun overhead. Nearly perfect weather, except for a few clouds drifting across the sky. I twisted to look back into the small building. Instantly, my lip curled up. She was asleep, thankfully, and wouldn't see the disgusted facial gesture. She's just so clingy and…airheaded, a complete space cadet all the way on the dwarf planet of Pluto. I've gone over this already. For now, she was handy. When it got down to it, she'll be easily disposable. Drop her off with the Careers, it won't be too hard. She'll think she's simply being "handy".

Nine deaths so far…wait, wasn't there another one? I vaguely remembered a cannon firing. Maybe I dreamt it. No, there was definitely a tenth. I'm no idiot. I wouldn't dream of a cannon sounding, because that would so incredibly be the intelligent thing to do.

I cracked my knuckles and teetered back inside. I was still woozy. To think, the geniuses who couldn't manage to find any form of shelter and just stood outside? They must be passed out somewhere out on a stretch of lawn. Passed out and unguarded. So openly laying there for, say, an unsuspecting hammer or pretty little explosives or a rather bored Career.

I've paid close attention to the hardcore Careers. Oh, yes, they'll have so much fun with them.

I'd like to make it clear that I'm not enjoying this. Only sick, twisted bastards who volunteered for this shit enjoy it. Me? I was trying to get by. You know, live.

"Annabelle," I nudged the log of a girl. "Wake up. Wake up, honey." I hated that, ugh, thinking about it just gets under my skin. "Honey", really, who calls people that? The moment I get my ass out of this arena, I'm punching every sweet talking District Ten person and all others in the surrounding districts squarely in the face.

I contained the impulse to pat myself on the back. That's the spirit. If I keep thinking I'll make it home, I may just do it. Or look like one of those Career asshats and die horribly anyway in a totally ironic situation.

Hey, I think I may have just jinxed it, and in a good way too.

I continued to shake Annabelle. She was sound asleep. Her dark, curled hair was in tangled knots atop of her head. Weariness was overcoming me again and I gave my head a hard shake to clear the numbing sensation. No, falling unconscious would be the number one way to get myself killed now.

The hammer felt incredibly heavy in my hands. I pulled it from the makeshift belt around my waist and no longer withheld the ability to bring it up to defend myself. The gas's side effects were definitely something to be wary of.

Water. That'd be the best way to wake myself up.

I rose to my feet, giving Annabelle one last hard kick to the ribs to see if she'll wake up. Bigger body, I assumed, takes longer for the affects to wear off. Breathing slowly out from my nose, I staggered through the background. Right in the front, one house over, there was a large fountain, a baby cupid mounted at the center of it. There at one point had been a baby cupid. Cautious of last year's surprise, I ensured to beat it into small pieces which were disposed of very carefully. Cupping my hands, I brought the few droplets of water to my lips. The fuzziness in my vision became crisper and I resorted to sticking my entire head below the surface of the water. The water wasn't too clean; as I'm positive I saw birds bathing in it yesterday.

Resurfacing, my balance went off kilter. The floor felt so parallel to the stand of my body and I nearly toppled over. Gripping the sides, I breathed hard. No, don't die now, at least get impaled by a sword first. That'd be pathetic way to die, by drinking rancid fountain water.

Carrying my hammer was actually a little easier. I peered down the street, checking for any tributes. Glass scattered along the pavement and in gardens. Perfect little suburbia wasn't so perfect any more. Maybe there were a few more clouds than I was letting myself to believe….

The ponytail, so nicely tied up when I first entered the Games, hung loosely at the side of my head. In a few moments, using what reflection I could in the water's surface to guarantee it was somewhat neat, the sandy blonde strands were tied back once again. I breathed slowly, controlling my breath, once again and was able to walk with less off a wobble in my stride. Annabelle wouldn't cause much trouble with me gone, would she? She'd have the sense to stay where she was until I got back.

I flipped the hammer over in my hands, catching it by the metal end.

At least, I'd hope so. Let's be positive for once, shall we?

Just before leaving, I grabbed the bag I stole from the Cornucopia, slinging it over my shoulder. The water was gone from it already but still held a measly days' worth of food. I searched through the pockets, pausing as my hands came upon something I hadn't found the first two days. The zipper stuck and required some jerking and prying to get to open. I pulled out the small object and it glistened in the light.

I squinted curiously, gave it a shake, and listened to the rattle of the key against its ring. Thoughtfully, I pressed the device with various little buttons sharing the ring. About some ways down the block, something beeped. It came from a big source. Like a car….

I grinned, the pieces coming together. Yes, oh, _hell yes_.

"_**Alix Estelle", District 9**_

Sleep. Deep, deep, _deep_ sleep. It must have been. All I saw was wispy forms and shadows, walking and floating and poofing into sight. I grabbed for them, but they'd slip through my fingers, reforming several feet away. I'd snatch at them again but the action was only repeated. Grab and poof, grab and poof.

None of it made sense. My head was full of clouds. It was full of fog and I imagined it drifting from my ears and nose and mouth, wrapping tightly around me and darkening my sight.

One of those to appear was Poise, drifting into sight with her feathery, strawberry blonde hair and petite frame. She smiled sweetly and waved. As I reached towards her, though, she'd dissipate like the others but her innocent, angelic face contorted into something awfully hideous. Sharp teeth appeared and I barely flinched in way in time to rescue my fingers. She growled and was blown into smoke by a breeze I couldn't feel.

There were glimpses of the ten Estelle's, those born of the family name, I mean. I tried to catch them too, but they instead found it funny, as if we were playing hide and seek. From six year old Gerard, up to twenty-three year old Vincent. It was an odd sight to see him giggle, a grown man with a family after all. He never struggled to find a wife, with the looks he had. All the Estelle's were a good-looking bunch.

It made me wonder how awkward, nervous little me was accepted as an Estelle.

I'm Alice Moore. I became Alice Estelle. I pretended to be Alix Estelle.

All made sense now, didn't it?

…Not really. I'd understand if it didn't.

I should clear myself up. I needed to remind myself of why I was here and who I was. See, I was born as Alice Moore in District Nine. Yes. I'm a girl. When I was young, before I could remember, I was left in the streets. My parents? No sign of them. I honestly have no clue what happened to them. I've wondered about it myself, like, did they abandon me? Did they somehow lose me? Were they murdered? By who?

Most likely, they died from hunger. But, really, would _you_ want that to be the reason you were orphaned?

"Alice," a voice called. "Alice…"

I whirled around, trying to focus on the person speaking. It…it had to be….

"Alix." The boy stood several feet away. His longish hair hung by his face and his ocean blue eyes, so full of life, I reached towards him. The dreamy world around me held me back and I moved at half the normal speed. He was so normal looking, so healthy. "You're…you're okay."

"Alice," he repeated. "No. I'm not." The evil smile crossing my face took the breath away from me. "I never will be, Alice. I'm dying. As good as dead."

Alix…he befriended me after a Peacekeeper caught me stealing food from a vendor in the market. He pointed off in the opposite direction while I hid. The Peacekeeper left. I was never caught by him. Alex took me home and begged his family to let me live with them, that I'll be good, like I was some stray he adored. I adored him too. We were best friends. I was family.

I tried to suck in the air, but found I couldn't. Air, I needed air. I crumpled to my knees. Alix, I couldn't call his name, no matter how hard I tried. He began to walk away, staring pitifully at my fingers that clawed away at the ground. I crawled what I guessed was a foot, a hand wrapped around my throat as it struggled for nonexistent oxygen. The space had become a vacuum. He faded away, engulfed by the fog.

I sank into darkness and abruptly awoke from the dream, panting.

Lauryn lay, snoring gently in her sleep. The glass windows were shattered. There were also twice as many…three times, no four times…and they kept moving. So did the tiles on the floor. They kept shifting about. Why wouldn't they just stay still?

"Why aren't you Alice?" I asked myself drowsily. I climbed to my feet, only to stumble down to the floor. My words slurred drunkenly and my head pounded horribly. Was it me or was everything suddenly all…fuzzy?

"Let's just…lay down…on the nice floor," I said. Hee hee, my voice sounded so silly, so girly. Wasn't I a guy? Oh, no, girls wear pretty skirts. Wasn't I wearing won? No? "Oh, so pretty outside."

I crawled along the floor. Wow, what a mess! Someone should clean this up! I swatted at the mess across the tile and watched my palms create a bigger mess. At the back of my mind, something was screaming to stop, that this hurt.

"I'm just painting a pre-etty picture," I giggled with a hiccup on 'pretty'. "A pretty picture with red paint. Alix will love this!"

I looked up. At least, I thought it was up. I wasn't exactly certain which way was up or down or even left or right. It felt like I was floating up to the ceiling, woohoo! "Isn't this a lovely picture, Panem? I hope you guys like red. Red is a pretty color."

I dragged my hand some more, enjoying the smears along the floor, or ceiling, or wall, whatever it was. It looked like a flower. Or maybe a clown! Clowns were creepy looking.

"Creepy…"

With that, my eyelids slid shut, too tired to do anything else.

**Nothing new, ladies and gents. **

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One **–(Balthy)**  
>Balthizar Demarkos, District One<strong> –(Alice)**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two_(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three <strong>–(Leon, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Leon Cabler, District Three <strong>(Neve, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	33. Day Three: Curiosity, Business of Death

***Crickets***

**I was going to rant about the last chapter…but seeing as a minimal number of people actually reviewed, I'm going to awkwardly fade off into the distance.**

_**Annabelle Hallestar, District 10**_

It tickled. Something was tickling my nose. I reached up to swat away whatever was the source of this and managed to squish the fly against my face. For such a tiny creature, it spewed quite a lot of goo.

"Ick," I groaned, wiping the guts from my flesh. A long strand of green goop ran from my hand to my nose. It glistened iridescently, slick and shiny. I shook my hand to free it of the slime but it the sticky strand simply stretched longer. I dragged it along my shirtfront and succeeded in pressing it over the front. My palm was still covered in the fly's remains, but only as much as a nuisance. The goop tickled my nose and I tried futilely to clear it on my sleeve.

That would have to do for now.

I gazed around but the movement of my head brought on a wave of dizziness and an aching pain. It was as if someone was to had placed a chisel on the top of my head and was slowly beating away at it, deeper and deeper into my brain. I slammed my right palm into my temple as I stood, a chisel seemingly placed there too. Bad idea, it proved to be. I pulled away to have another goopy trail run down my face. It stuck to the tips of my curls.

The pain was so bad…what was I forgetting? Something important…something….

Oh, Brandy! Of course! My ally! She told me to keep watch! But I got to tired, you know? That gas was funny. It started drifting in through the cracks. I wanted to make the shed brighter and use one of my lights but Brandy's face got all red and warm, like she was close to bursting. Then her cheeks deflated and the color subsided. In a tone that wasn't exactly endearing, she said, "Oh, hon, that would be a good idea." I smiled at that. "And I'm positive you'd only blow us into a few million pieces instead of several billion. But let's try to avoid that, okay?" The wide smile she had on crumpled to a straight-lined grimace.

Sometimes, I felt like she didn't like me. Like, she was being _too_ nice.

I searched the small area and found her to be nowhere close. Huh. Where could she have gone? She told me to stay here, no matter what. I wasn't to move one inch. But whenever she left, she told me she was leaving. That doesn't seem fair. Why does she get to leave while I have to stay?

Brandy was probably doing something quiet. She liked planning. I'd hear her mumble something beneath her breath while she observed other tributes. I'd ask if she wanted me to do my lights but she raised a hand, indicating no for now. I knew the whole point of this "Game" was to defeat all the other tributes. I also knew my lights, my knack, could do that. They might not always go the way they should go and just fly away somewhere else. But they worked really well when they did, well, work.

The door was slightly open and late morning light streamed in. I could tell, because when I poked my nose outside, the sun was up in the sky but not too high. The air still retained the droplets of dew and I enjoyed the feeling on my skin. District Ten was always such a dust bowl. The only grass was specifically for the cattle, and only the milking cows. There was the occasional patch of green, but not much. Dirt was everywhere, in your hair, on your skin, on your clothes, under your nails. I didn't really mind, actually. It was just refreshing to see so much color.

I leaned on the door to examine the outside. It gave way to my weight, swinging out and sending me flying to the ground. I grunted while striking the ground below. Pain radiated through my knee and I turned over onto my bottom to examine the joint. The flesh flamed red. I cringed at the sight. Ow. That didn't look good. I gave it a poke. Didn't feel too nice either.

It took several limps before I developed any kind of normal stride. I've taken harder hits back home wrestling around with my big pups. A bird fluttered by my head and I reached up, hoping it'd land on my finger. It flew away without giving me a look. I pouted, watching it disappear. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I whistled for the bird's attention. It didn't come back, much to my disappointment.

What could Brandy be planning? She took our weapons, so it must be a good one. It had to be if she were to leave and take our weapons. Brandy said my orbs were only for highly dangerous situations and as a last resort. She said only when she said so. But Brandy wasn't here. So how can she say so?

What…what if someone got her? And what if I just didn't hear her cannon go off? I gasped at the thought of it. Brandy couldn't possibly be gone. She was too smart to get killed. She snuck around all the other tributes. We snuck around together.

Brandy wouldn't just abandon me either, right?

I hugged myself, glancing around nervously. Anybody could be here. Why do I even bother? I knew I was going to die eventually. I gave up the moment they called my name.

Yes, I told myself. You did. But my friend, Anan, told me I couldn't. There was no way I should. "You're the jelly to my peanut butter," he had said. "The fairy to my tale, the blood to my gore, the Hunger to my Games! You gotta try, Hallestar!"

So, yeah, I had to try. What should I do now? If Brandy were just planning, she wouldn't want me going anywhere. However…she'd be so happy if I tried some, how would Brandy say it? She'd love if I caused mayhem! It'd be great! That's what Brandy would want. Like, maybe, blow something up!

I nodded happily at the thought. That's exactly what I should do! But where do I drop the lights?

I searched the area. A place where the lights would fly really high and really far. Somewhere like…there, that's perfect!

My eyes looked to a building some ways down the block. I noticed, even from here, due to the large tower shooting from the front. There had to be a staircase in the center of it to get that high.

I jumped over the white picket fence, a nail sticking up from the wood tearing my skirt, landed on my rump, and slammed my palms to the ground to try to cushion the fall. Ouch! The dirt pressed to my palms stuck as a thin layer, stuck to the goop. I pushed myself to my feet once again and began sprinting down the path. Yes, reach the top of that tower and let my lights go fly. After that…well, they always caused trouble. Brandy said she always we needed to cause some trouble. She'll be so pleased!

_**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District 1**_

"But the dragon ate both the horrid, shiny knight and the needy princess, the kingdom living happily never after as the dragon again began picking off their numbers, and annihilating them all. The end."

Balthy started off again and I think my eyes became fuzzy. Why is it whenever_ I_ tell a story, he has to tell one of his own? And they never make sense! He used big words for words that could easily be said without such big words. It was _so_ annoying. He talked so much. My stories were at least enjoyable! Seriously!

"Alice Lynn? Hello, earth to Alice Lynn!" I blinked. Wait, those words were understandable. That was my name! I gazed up at the bigger boy. He was about average height, but to me, everyone looked really tall. His horns made him tower over me. He pointed to my face and stated matter-of-factly, "Drooling, also known as driveling, dribbling, slobbering, or, in a medical context, ptyalism, is when saliva flows outside the mouth. Drooling is generally caused by excess production of saliva, inability to retain saliva within the mouth, or-"

"Yawn!" I shouted. He wouldn't start off again on that. I wiped the saliva from my face. Balthy always went on and on and on, ugh, he would not be quiet! Why does someone talk so much? It made no sense. Who can have so much to say?

"You know, Alice," he said. "Patience-"

"Bla-aaah!" I screeched. I yanked my pigtails before covering my ears. After a few moments of Balthy watching me with his pale eyes, I sighed, blowing a flyaway hair from my face. "When is something fun going to happen? Why can't we go back to Sandy and Bree and Foe?"

Balthy bent his head from one side to the other, rolling it around to work out a knot. "Simply, based on Bree's intentions and overall tolerance, the moment you were to finish your tantrum, she most likely would have killed you. I'm certain Foe and Santiago would not have any problem with it either. I'm enjoying this study, moving from a large Career alliance to a small pair. I find my heart race to increase and a clear head difficult to retain as there is less people, as you'd say, 'Watching my back', and more people looking to kill us. By your doleful gaze, I'll assume you weren't listening to a word I was saying. Should I revisit my explanation of drool again?"

I snapped my eyes back to him. "Whatcha' say? It's just this butterfly flew by and I thought it looked really pretty. It was big and fluttery!"

Balthy clamped down on his jaw. "What did you say."

"It's just this butter-"

Balthy raised one of his hands, the upper right one. "No. I wasn't asking what you said. I was stating it was 'What did you say?' Not 'Whatcha' say?'"

I stopped, clasping my hands behind my back and rising slowly to my tiptoes as I said, "Oh!" I exaggerated the O. It sounded cuter that way.

Balthy nodded. Suddenly, he pushed me to the side and raised his crossbow level to shoot something. I screamed and a large dragon appeared. Its body coiled around me and I scrunched myself up, peeking over to watch the scene unfold.

My horned friend had been right to shoot something of real danger. I squinted at the girl. I figured she'd have died after the first arrow. Balthy had good aim. He barely ever missed. He explained to me why this was, using this word 'dexterity' and other big words. He was a lot more fun when he didn't talk so much.

No, the girl wasn't dead, as being hit by an arrow would do that to someone. What remained of the arrow lay shattered three-quarters of the way towards her. Balthy already had a second crossbow raised, hastily notching an arrow to the next. My brother would explain the sight as 'Something out of Rambo.' Balthy shot an arrow and the girl ducked behind a hedge. If she had been a second slower, the arrow would have made her a kebab.

"Mr. Dragon!" I commanded. "Burn the hedge!"

The creature complied. Somehow, the girl heard me. She rolled over several feet, right into the open. Balthy shot again but suddenly, she fell through the ground. Like, one moment, lying helplessly. The next, giant hole!

Mr. Dragon had set the hedge alight. His coils were wrapped tight and I had to squeeze through to the top so I could breathe. Balthy moved forward cautiously. Closer, closer….

The floor beneath him disappeared as well. It crumpled like a cookie, the soil suddenly loose, dry, and lifeless. Taken aback, I hopped down to the pavement. "Balthy!" I cried.

The girl climbed out from her own hole and glanced nervously to me. I pointed at her. "You know what to do, Mr. Dragon."

She screamed, mailboxes exploding wildly. I giggled. She was funny to watch.

Mr. Dragon roared skywards. Oh, he was so dramatic. The girl sprinted away but a troublesome garden gnome blocked her path. She tripped and fell hard on her hands. The land behind her was burned to a crisp.

Balthy had pulled himself up from the ground now. Mr. Dragon inhaled for another fiery breath but I silenced him with a wave of my hand. The girl picked herself up but before she could run again, she was blocked by a sudden wall of fairies. A cloud of them wrapped around me, whispering excitedly in my ears. I skipped ahead to the girl and she was urged forward by the fairies nipping at her skin. They were in so many different colors. They were like a rainbow.

"What's your name?" I asked. The girl swallowed, clamping her mouth closed. That wasn't nice.

She cried out as the fairies chomped on her ears. "Neve!" She swatted at them, trying to protect her flesh. "My name is Neve."

The fairies kept at it. They pulled at her hair, yanking out the clips that held it back. Suddenly, pain skimmed along my collarbone. Warmth dripped down and when I touched the stinging flesh, I pulled back to see blood.

"We don't hurt our friends," I said. "That means you are no friend of mine."

I grinned broadly and the fairies swarmed Neve. Oh this was-

Lights danced across my eyes and everything went black.

_**Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District 11**_

I choked back a sob as I felt the frying pan strike. It had taken so much for me to move towards her, knowing what I was planning. I couldn't, I shouldn't, but I seriously had to. Me and Zander had argued for less than a minute about advancing.

"She gave us sanctuary," Zander pointed out. "We were bound to meet up again anyway."

"But so soon?" I hissed. Zander gripped my shoulder tight. I laid my hand over it gave it a squeeze. He, in turn, squeezed my shoulder back. My body became rigid as I felt Zander smile comfortingly at me. No, I couldn't be letting myself do this. Not now. I stepped to my feet but kept my body hunched to remain out of sight.

"Something wants us to team up," he said. "Would I 'ally' to you? Get it? A lie? Ally?"

I took my makeshift weapon in my hand. "We'll act on the grounds that you won't make any of those awful puns anymore." I glanced sideways to my ally but found Zander was already barreling forward towards the District One boy. I went after the girl.

And I hit her with a frying pan from behind.

A little twelve year old girl. What was wrong with me?

The winged creatures (fairies, they were…I couldn't absorb this strangeness) whizzed around in a frenzy. I swung wildly at them and two hands spun me around. I batted one from the air and Neve slammed her heel into its body.

"Run!" she urged. I plucked a fairy from my hair and allowed myself to be guided by her steady hands. The District One girl was alive still and she was already stirring from the blow. The little beasts had flown back to their master. Neve picked up the pace.

"Oh, cool, you have four arms?" Zander was saying. He raised his own pair and grew another set from his sides. They tore through his shirt and he ripped away the rest of the fabric. I pressed my lips together. Glancing sideways, Neve seemed unfazed. Seriously? Am I the only one bothered by the dramatic tearing of his shirt and overall…naked body?

The District One boy peered carefully at Zander for a moment. "Interesting," he pondered aloud. He took aim on my bare-chested friend. I stared in astonishment as he charged and narrowly dodged around the arrow. No. He didn't dodge it. It just…exploded.

Neve panted hard, holding onto me for support. "I'm sorry. Too many explosions for one day. My mind is splitting." Zander pounced atop of District One and the two wrestled. One obviously had more experience of how to fight with his four arms and pinned Zander easily. Neve, I realized, was scrutinizing me hard with her pale brown eyes.

"You can duplicate, right?" I nodded. She pointed over to the conflict. "Offer a few more hands." I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. She shook her head, shoving me along. "Go!"

Breathing outwards, I willed myself to break apart. There was a moment of minor discomfort but it passed quickly. Soon, there were three other me's, all ready for battle. Neve, however, looked ready to faint. She raked her nails through her hair, pushing the strands back from her face.

While my doubles charged to help Zander, I dragged Neve down the block. But I could still hear Zander grunting in exertion when the District Three girl stopped and pointed to the sky. She couldn't draw a full breath and I was forced to follow her gaze to understand what she meant. It took a moment, but the sight set my teeth on edge.

Bright orbs of light floating from a church steeple.

"Zander!" I shrieked. It hurt my throat, the sound scraping the sides. "Zander!"

It caught his attention and both he and One were distracted enough to look to where Neve was still pointing. The orbs were floating downwards and right towards us.

The multiple Chryses tackled the distracted District One and Zander took this moment to escape. Already, his eye was shining and blood trickled from his nose. Right being him-

"That wasn't nice!" the little girl screamed. "We play nice or we don't play at all!" The rabid fairy things zoomed forward. Neve yanked my arm and hauled me several steps before I developed a stride and ran on my own. I listened carefully to hear Zander's footsteps behind me. My brows furrowed as the gait altered. It was more of a gallop. Like a horse….

A unicorn whinnied at us. Without a second thought, I swung myself up. Neve hesitated, glanced back once, and finally came to the conclusion to trust the unicorn. She gripped hands with me and after some grunting and cries of alarm, I got the girl behind me. She locked her arms around my waist and buried her head between my shoulder blades. I risked twisting around to see the other tributes.

Dumbfounded, I saw that the District One guy wasn't running from the orb. Instead, he was _examining_ it. That's what it looked like from here. He tilted his head curiously and his mouth moved a mile a minute. By the stubborn stomping of the little girl, she wasn't listening at all. A deep sense of unrest stirred in the pit of my stomach while watching her. Dark shadows danced across the sidewalk from where she stood. They rose and wrapped around her like a sheer cloak and made her innocent face into something straight from a nightmare. The boy reached to prod the little orb.

I looked away as he made contact. The sound of it exploding was closely followed by the sounding of a cannon.

Zander abruptly skidded to a halt and changed course. The street he was heading in the direction of flew upwards as the orbs met the ground. Neve's breath tickled my ear as she spoke, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"We need to move to the houses by the school," she instructed. "That's where Leon is."

I passed the message onto Zander. He neighed in acknowledgement.

I bent low over Zander's mane. The clip clop of his hooves striking pavement kept my focus somewhere and allowed my body to calm. So, less than eleven hours later, I was already teamed up once again with a minor alliance I had with the official District Three smart kids. The way they spoke and their mannerisms, they always sounded like they knew exactly what they were talking about and had a clear head. They knew their odds. But they put aside the numbers and simply fought to stay alive.

They weren't the backstabbing type. If Neve was, at least, I'd probably already be dead. My mind had cleared and I was struck by how exhausted I was. My doubles were…I had no idea. I could live without regaining them. But it took an _extensive_ amount of time for me to recover.

My heart roared to life once again as a shining object sped down the road. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a car. Someone had gotten their hands on a car. This wasn't Oprah, I'm certain not everyone could get one so easily. She had to have keys. Wasn't there such a way of hotwiring one?

I nearly slapped myself. Why didn't I think of hotwiring a car? Not only am I with a District Three pair but a guy from the Electric District of all places!

Neve's arms tensed around me. "What's wrong?"

She choked a little. It was a strange sound that came from the back of her throat but it was audible. Finally, she shook her head; digging her heals into Zander's side. He slid to a stop. Neve already was off and sprinting through a side road. Zander morphed back to human form. I searched through my bag and handed him a change of clothes from the pack on my back. His shapes may change but his clothes definitely didn't. He was breathing hard as well as he dressed.

"What's up with her?" he asked. He bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air.

"Why did you choose a unicorn? Why not a horse?"

Zander smirked. "Unicorns are sexy. The badass horn would come in handy too."

I shook my head. This caused Zander to laugh, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him. My face warmed and it didn't help when he placed a kiss on my hand. I shivered. I wanted to explain to him that I wasn't interested, that we were going to die, this could in no way possibly work, and that I didn't enjoy all the flirting, especially his lack of modesty.

But, instead, when I opened my mouth, the only sound was a cannon firing.

**Dramatic ending! Who was it to die? Who do you think? Be here next chapter to find out! **

**I'd also like to mention that Bring Them to Their Knees, the 24tributes24authors take on the 25****th**** Hunger Games has been in motion. My reaping chapter for the District Seven male tribute, Jonas Emerson, has been published recently!**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One_(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three-(?)<br>Leon Cabler, District Three **(Neve, Chrys, Zander)**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Leon, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	34. Day Three: Pickup Lines Pick Up Spirits

**Picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Somebody calls you; you answer quite slowly, a girl with kaleidoscope eye. ****Cellophane flowers of yellow and green towering over your head. Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes and she's gone.**

_**Leon Cabler, District 3**_

The light provided by the sun was both a blessing and a curse. It allowed me to fully review the extent of my injuries. But, awaking to find the sun peeking between clouds in the sky, I was repulsed by the network of dried blood. Adjusting myself, a wave of aching and sharp pain crashed down, seeping to the bone. I felt around and found the water Neve left behind. I drank deeply, relieved by the liquid soothing my throat.

I blinked towards the sky once again. The clouds were collecting, darkening the sky. The air was chilled several degrees lower than that of yesterday. It was bound to rain, if not later today, but tomorrow.

The house I was leaned against provided a decent amount of coverage and shade. I could still be spotted by anyone who was searching. There was nothing much to do right now but to worry. The cuts were going to be infected. The water was running low. There were still plenty of people left around to kill me and no weapons for me to protect myself with. With the injuries, I wouldn't be able to run away either. I kept my hands busy by snacking on the dried fruit. The packet wasn't big and only half filled. My stomach growled longingly as soon as I finished it.

Was Neve okay?

The thought struck me and I pressed my lips together and bit the inside of my cheek. No cannon had fired. Neve was cautious and always thought things through.

Shouldn't she be back by now? What was she doing exactly? Frankly, if she doesn't come back, I was screwed. I was dependent of her for everything. You don't want to know how we dealt with the bathroom situation.

A loud crash caught my attention. It'd catch anyone's attention. The house behind me rumbled and I scrunched my legs in as a last attempt at protection. Shit was about to go down, I was certain of that. Someone was close to dying. Or someone _was_ dying. I bit the inside of my lip again.

"What are you doing, Neve?" I whispered to myself. "Where are you?"

As soon as I said those words, a figure burst out from around the house. I flinched backwards but breathed a sigh of relief outwards. Speak of the devil.

"Neve," I said. "You nearly scared the shit out of me."

The girl stumbled over to me, kneeling beside me and throwing her arms around me. That definitely caught me off guard. She buried her head in my neck and only let go when I grunted in pain. "Hey, I'm still alive here." She wiped at tears and I lowered my head to see her amber eyes glistening. She was crying? "You alright?"

"I'm sorry," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm. "I just got worried…."

"What did I say about saying sorry? I'm as good as ever!" I declared. Neve sniffled. I shook my head. "What's with that?"

"With what?" she asked. Her eyes flickered back and forth nervously.

I rolled my eyes. "You're all jittery. You're never jittery. You're Miss Calm, Cool, and Collected. When I say something totally illogical as being as good as ever, you're supposed to do that weird eyebrow thing." Neve sat back. The hairs on the back of my neck stuck up and refused to relax no matter how many times I rubbed at it. "What was that crash? What happened to the bag?"

She waved me off. My ally massaged her temples, momentarily pained. "Long story. We need to move."

"Now?" I inquired.

She picked her head up. Her jaw was tensed in determination. "Now," she nodded. Neve hopped to her feet and began moving in the opposite direction. I dug my claws into the side of the house, all the while scowling. The pain hit me yet again and it took every ounce of energy for me to remain standing. Neve turned and her gaze mirrored my own expression, one I'd never picture on her face; confusion.

"Oh," she said, her eyes widening. "Right."

She marched back to me, staring hard at the wound in my leg. Her body swung and swayed, unbalanced and she grabbed my arm to steady herself. The sudden movement rubbed a scab open and blood seeped down my arms once again. It finally struck me.

Neve's eyes were brown.

The person before me smiled wearily. "I'm a little woozy."

No. Neve never smiled for no reason. If she smiled, it was for something major, dammit!

This wasn't Neve.

Without thinking, I launched myself at her. I scratched at her face and we hit the ground hard. The girl grew a few inches and her hair lightened. Blood seeped from where my nails broke the skin on her cheek. She screamed angrily.

It didn't take much for the younger girl to roll over and have me pinned. I twisted about but couldn't muster the strength. The tribute pressed her knee down into my thigh and I roared out as the pain hit me. It was so intense that I couldn't possibly think straight.

Through the bleary haze, I watched as she pulled a hammer from her waistband. It was tucked behind her, out of sight. I bit my lip, tears swimming in my eyes. The metal, pointed end rose and fell and I threw my arms up over my face.

The tip bit down into my skin. Warmth oozed across the surface of my flesh. She had somehow sharpened it enough for it to tear through to the bone. I shoved her off and attempted to rise by collapsed as soon as I applied pressure to my leg. The girl was on my once again, on my back, and I wrapped my arms around my neck. She went at it, hitting me as hard as she possibly could. She struck my leg and I yelled again. Without realizing it, I had begun to scream for help. Neve's name came to my lips.

"She can't help you now," the girl said, voice strained. She only had to be fourteen. I was so worn, so hurt and weak. I couldn't fight. Blood covered her clothes. It had to be a mix of both of ours.

A cannon went off, and for a mere second, I thought I was over with. But then the pain of the hammer came down again. It wasn't as bad. A lot more muddled.

She hopped to her feet and swung a foot into my side. It took the breath from me and I curled up in a fetal position. The hammer stroke again and my eyes watered. It was buried deep in my stomach. In a very tender spot. A very bloody spot.

The girl kicked again in this spot. She brought the hammer down. She kicked. She swung the hammer.

I coughed and blood appeared beside me.

The assault finally stopped. The girl backed away.

"Sorry, hon," she said scathingly. She spit onto the ground and wiped her bleeding face. "We're playing a game here. Only one person can possibly win."

I tried to respond but only coughed up more blood. She ruptured something major.

Her feet ran off and I was left gasping for breath. Great. So my time had come. I was dying. Right here, my life bleeding away. I already accepted the fact I was going to die here in the arena a long time ago.

I was just troubled by the fact I was going to die alone.

The ground around me felt wet and warm. It seeped through my clothes. I imagined lying on the rooftops of the tallest buildings in the District. The memory of warmth comforted me. I sighed with relief. It felt like a long ago since I lay there. When would death come? Is Mom watching? My brother? I hoped not. I hoped they'd never seen any of what has happened to me. I hoped they sat in quiet, blissful ignorance and just assumed I was dead.

"Leon."

My eyes moved upward to the source of the voice. I couldn't identify the figure, though. She…it was a she, right? I squinted. The features became distinct and I grimaced momentarily. She kneeled beside me, running a hand down the length of my arm. It was comforting.

"Neve?" I said. The word was weak and wobbled over the single syllable.

"I'm here, Leon."

"That's…that's real you?" My tongue couldn't add the –ly onto really. She continued to stroke my arm. "Not a pre…pre-te-end?"

"Really me, Leon." She kept her eyes on my face. She tucked her hair behind her ears since she no longer had a clip to hold it back. "I'm here," she repeated.

My eyelids flickered and I tried to smile. "So how long…how long do you think it…it…it will take to patch me up?"

She raised an eyebrow. That's the look I was talking about! "Not sure." Neve sighed raggedly. "You can't exactly heal yourself." It was almost comforting to know she had accepted the fact as well. She knew I was a goner.

I laughed but all that came up was spittle mixed with blood. Neve's face remained emotionless. "We all can't be Hunters." I reached up to playfully tap her nose like my mom used to do when I was little. But I couldn't get my hand up three inches off the ground. Neve took my hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

I closed my eyes. "I'm one happy kitty."

The first raindrop landed on my hand and it was the last thing I felt.

_**Zander De La Fuente, District 5**_

"Go ahead!" Chrys called after me. I complied, increasing speed. She wasn't nearly as fast and certainly didn't have the energy. I glanced between houses as I searched for our newly formed alliance. By the way, Neve obviously knew where she was going and had travelled this road before.

Leon and her were interesting, to put it simply. They didn't talk much and were drawn into one another. Barely even that. They'd sit stiffly beside each other and exchange minimal conversation while Neve periodically checked and dressed his wounds. I'd have to be the one to start something up. Yes, I never have much trouble doing that. But a boy could only rant and disturb people so much.

I skidded right past the duo and my mind only processed them when I two houses away. I swiftly twisted on my heel and made my way back. I slowed as my eyes rested on the bloodied boy. That's the cannon that had fired.

Neve was staring blankly at the corpse-I'm sorry, that's a horrible word. Corpse implied he had been dead for a long time. For a moment, I thought to step forward and place my hand on his skin to feel if there was warmth left. I actually did move but it was a shaky step backwards. Neve glanced up to me, hearing my feet brush along the grass. It was hard to read her expression. She appeared perfectly fine. But her eyes were rimmed red and her nose was a few shades pinker than normal. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

"He bled out," she said. Her voice stayed steady and matter-of-fact. "The person who got him at least hit a major enough spot to make it fast."

"They hit a lot of spots," I commented. A panting Chrys finally jogged up beside me. She bent over with her hands on her knees as she forced in air.

"Is she-?" she stopped midsentence. Her eyes grew wide. "Oh. Oh my…dear god…."

Neve let go of Leon's hand and laid it on his chest. Chrys crept forward and kneeled on the opposite side of Leon. She draped his other hand over his right and wiped away some of the blood on his face.

"Who do you think did it?" Chrys asked. "It's so brutal. Do you think it was a Career?"

Neve frowned, mulling it over. "I'd think there'd be more definite strokes like a sword. This doesn't look like that. They were fighting." She shook her head. "When I found him, he kept asking if it was really me. That it was some fake me. I figured it may just have been some delirium in death but…I have no idea what he'd mean otherwise. But he looked so scared until I said it was really me."

A fake Neve? Was it another Gamemaker trick?

"He seemed like a good friend," Chrys said. She spoke earnestly to Neve, resting a tanned hand on her arm. The smaller girl tensed at her touch as if Chrys had crossed some invisible barrier that…did something…or something. Not my best choice of words. Chrys glanced upwards at me with her chocolate brown eyes and smiled meekly. I grimaced back.

"We didn't talk much," Neve admitted. "We weren't social. But we were friends in a pretty pathetic sense of the word." She rose. "Can we move now? His body needs to be collected and it can only happen if we clear out." We agreed. The sight of a dead body was depressing me nonetheless.

I looked towards the sky. "It's close to raining any way."

Neve patted Leon's hands one last time. "Goodbye, Leon." Chrys brushed by me to lead the way but I grabbed her hand and held her back. It was fun watching her get goosebumps and looking so displeased with me. She tried to wiggle free but I only proved to be able to hold on tighter. She finally gave way to a sigh and dragged me along down the road. I looked over my shoulder to check if our new ally was following.

Neve was trailing behind. She hiked the strap of her bag higher up on her shoulder and wrapped her arms protectively around herself. I wasn't sure if this was just the normal Neve or a grieving one.

The thought kept nagging at the forefront of my mind. A fake Neve, someone pretending to be her. I could look like her if I wanted. Shifting to look like people wasn't easy. I wasn't as good as….

Brandy.

"Brandy," I said aloud. The two girls looked up at me curiously.

"Your district partner?" Chrys inquired. "The little fourteen year old?"

"I wouldn't call her 'little' per say," Neve said. "She's taller than me." Chrys shrugged. I waved for them to be silent. That manipulative, snarky girl….

"She's the one who killed him," I said. Both girls frowned. I explained, "He was asking if it was actually you, Neve."

"Yes," she said. "We've established this."

"So," I continued, dropping Chrys's hand. "If Brandy had been pretending to be you and approached him, he'd be wary of another Neve coming at him after he was bludgeoned to almost death by one. That's who was driving the car when we went by." The fourteen year old had a car. Fuck.

There was a long gap of silence. "How much of a difference does this make?" Chrys asked. "It doesn't change the fact that he's dead."

"It only means," Neve said, "that we'll be more on our guard."

Chrys was shaking her head at me, her mouth slightly ajar. I allowed myself to grin a little. Chrys's shocked face was enough to make me forget momentarily my anger towards Brandy's trickery. "I'm not that stupid. I actually have a brain."

"Somewhere in that good-looking head of yours," Chrys rolled her eyes. She tensed up as she saw my grin widen. "That face scares me…."

"Good-looking, eh?" I said. Chrys crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Let's just go, okay?" she said. She looked to Neve for any form of backup. Neve raised an eyebrow curiously. Now _that_ look scared _me_. "I'm surprised you didn't just say one of your corny pickup lines about how I was speechless."

"Pickup line?" Neve questioned. Chrys smacked her face hard. It looked painful. I'd have no idea why she'd hit herself.

I laid an arm on both girls' shoulders. Neve stared down at her feet. Chrys mumbled something like, "You just got him started."

"You mean, 'Girl, are you an Avox or did I just make you speechless?'" Chrys smacked herself again. Neve's lips curled upwards. "If you're looking for pickup lines in general, I have plenty. 'Even if there wasn't gravity on earth, I'd still fall for you.' Oh, 'my love for you is like-'"

"Don't. You. Dare. Mention. That. One," Chrys said. "That last thing I need to hear is some corny pickup line about diarrhea."

"Oh, it's corny alright," I winked. She shivered and slipped out from underneath my arm. Neve chuckled, if halfheartedly, picking my arm up and dropping it back down to my side. She sped up and took the lead. She tore a strip of her sleeve off and knotted the two ends together. Tugging it tight, she pulled her back and tied it into a ponytail. She needed a little time to herself. In fact, she required a lot of time to herself. Can't blame a guy for trying to cheer a girl up.

Chrys refused to look my way.

Huh. Women.

_**Bree Maysee, District 4**_

Quite obviously, I knew everyone wanted to kill me. But, surely, I didn't want to die at the moment. I wasn't some suicidal bloke who wished death upon himself or, in my case, herself. I was hoping to live a long, happy, rich life living in the Victor's Village lap of luxury. All I had to do was wipe out the rest of the competition.

Of course, the rest of the competition wanted to kill me. A few tributes wanted to kill me specifically. Even worse, I was allied to them. Not good for me but that was just a minor bump in the road. Another metaphorical obstacle for me to overcome. All I needed was my trident. That would beat the stupid road into pieces.

Admittedly, the Mutant Games had been a lot rougher than I expected. What was I expecting? To already be back in District Four. I expected to have already had my epic finale battle with Sandy here and be sipping iced tea with a little lemon with his creepy dog as my rug and hot butlers waiting on me hand and foot. I'd easily kick my math teacher's ass for every time he gave me detention for being late. I'd punch every prissy girl who stuck her snout nose down at my sweaty appearance after a long day's effort of training. My life would be perfect.

But here I was, walking on glass, both literally and metaphorically. Walking on glass wasn't even any type of metaphor.

We had travelled back to the original cul-de-sac with the Cornucopia. There hadn't been much to begin with, but I questioned why we didn't make a stable camp here. It seemed logical.

I laughed to myself. Well, duh, we didn't make a camp. Making camp meant staying in one place for a while. I didn't want to stay in one place. I wanted to go skewer a few tributes and grill them rotisserie style above a nice toasty fire made by Ms. Dragon Breath herself.

We settled down by the Cornucopia. The glass had to be shattered here. At least there wasn't some stupid car alarm going off. I'd probably kill Lupe. It's a stress reliever.

I just couldn't sit around any longer….

"We need to find more tributes," I said, rising. Foe frowned at me.

"We just got here."

Sandy strode over, having firmly tied Lupe to a nearby mailbox. The boy instantly nodded off, his head dipping forward. He was a cooperative little prisoner. Shame he'd have to die soon. And simply because I was bored.

"Oh, complacent are we?" I said. Foe's eye twitched.

"No," she replied. "I'm saying that we've been moving all day to get here."

I crossed my arms. "And we know that gas knocked the tributes out. We could have found more tributes but instead we walked in circles until we found this stupid Cornucopia with nothing inside. Please, tell me, Foe, how this makes sense?"

"We can't wander around killing people with no rhyme or reason," Foe countered. Sandy clenched his jaw and I sensed he was going to step in soon. My eyes narrowed on him momentarily. I willed him to continue to bite down on his jaw. I smirked as he tried to open it and found he couldn't.

"There is a reason, though. To win the Games. What's a better reason than that?" Sandy comically began pulling at his jaw, trying to force it open. With a flick of my wrist, I stopped my power and Sandy yanked too hard on it. He cried out in pain and massaged his jaw, working it side to side. I smiled broadly at him. His hand went to his sword's hilt.

"You wouldn't dare try," I snapped. "You know I could easily have Foe kill you without a second thought." Sandy breathed slowly outwards from his nose and dropped his hand. "Seriously," I continued. "We're the supposed 'Career' tributes. We trained for this. We've cut away the excess and the wannabes and now it's just us, the hardcore ones, the tributes who have a practical shot of winning. For all I know, that airheaded, chubby girl from District Ten has killed more losers than us. So, unless you want to sit around and watch the grass grow, I suggest we go do something."

Sandy crossed his arms. I matched his posture and stuck my tongue out. Hey, they always underestimate the child. Take Alice Lynn for example.

I watched Sandy and his whole body. Every muscle rippled in his arms. My heart actually skipped for a moment. He marched forward and his welcoming hazel eyes darkened to reveal someone of more brutal mentality. He seemed huger and meaner and eviler, like he'd happily tear my head off and use it to play a game of kickball. I'd say I'd happily do the same thing to his head but I couldn't piece the thought together. This guy was huge and scarier than me.

He grabbed my shirtfront. His eyes were pits eager to pull me into such great depths of darkness. "You be quiet for once and listen to what we have to say, got it? And if you don't, I swear to Panem I will slit your throat open just to stop hearing your snarky little tone thinking you can actually scare me."

I tried to reply but my throat was closed up. I managed a nod.

Foe watched quietly off to the side. She was slowly shuffling a deck of Lupe's cards he always conveniently had with him twenty-four/seven. Sandy released the tattered fabric and took a step away. He sighed outwardly and shook his head. I've never seen Santiago like that before. It must be his mutation. I just laughed at it before but…I had never witnessed something so chilling. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and the breath lock in my lungs. I was actually scared of him. I feared for my life. Me, Bree, scared of stupid Sandy.

It made me realize how big of a competition he would be. The competition he already was. And how dangerous the soul behind that pretty face was.

**This one was fun. I mean, to write, at least. I'd like to point out the cannon Leon heard was just Balthy's from last chapter. My Beta pointed out possible confusion for that.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three- <strong>(Zander, Chrys)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	35. Day Three: Sibling Rivalry

**Watching "The Strangers" ten o' clock at night with only my older brother home. What can possibly go wrong?**

_**Damion Garven, District 12**_

"Dame," Robin whined. He propped the collar of his shirt up around his neck. "It's raining."

Oh, thank goodness. You do not know how relieved I am to hear that because I certainly did not figure that out on my own. I shall rest assured, knowing you can make such imperative and essential observations. I know that's why I was meant to spend the rest of my existence trapped within the same cranium of someone so perceptive.

Perfect paradise of Mutant Games was becoming a wasteland very fast. The streets were strewn with trash and glass and everything looked…dead. It didn't quite strike me until now, but the grass and trees and bushes were wilted. It wasn't from lack of water, either. It was from something else. Something else had sucked the green from the vegetation. I felt Robin shiver as I shared this observation. I, for once, did not mock him about it. We reached an intersection and I could make out a few shops at the far end of the street we travelled.

Robin swung his gaze up to a sign and I read the name of the street. Half of it was broken off so it took a moment as I deciphered the battered remains: _Drea._

"Dream Street?" Robin guessed aloud.

Or Dread, I added. I'm sure Gamemaker PJ was avoiding any references to old age boy bands. She would be focusing on making our lives a living hell. She's doing a fine job, I'd say. I'd give her a firm two thumbs up from both me and Robin. Oh, Robby Poo, don't you yell at me. The woman rightfully deserves such credit. Would you be able to construct such an intricate arena such as this one? No, you'd make the arena a giant cake or a washing machine.

That, I may add, was not too bad of an idea. Take note of that, Ms. PJ.

Robin's voice grumbled aloud. I chuckled. The sound echoed off the sides of his head.

_Would you mind not being so much of a jerk? It _is_ our birthday after all. Our as in you and me. To be technical, it's only my birthday because you decided to jump ship and hop into my body. A person actually has to have been born to celebrate a birthday, thank you very much!_

Radiation killed my body, brother dearest. So I was like a stillborn or something. Just think, if I didn't, you wouldn't have such wonderful company.

A large drop of rain plopped atop of my head as I stared upwards towards the overcast sky. I realized then Robin had forced me into control. Rolling my eyes, I settled comfortably into the physical body and inspected my surroundings before speeding down the street. Standing out in the rain wasn't what I preferred for the moment. So cover would be best. The light splattering quickly developed into a downpour and it soaked through my shirt. I ducked into cover provided by a porch and gingerly sat upon the porch swing. I, if you guessed it, swung on the seat, gently swaying and guiding myself with the toe of my shoe.

_At least this held up._

As if on cue, one of the ropes holding the seat up snapped off. In rapid succession, the other holds broke away and the seat slammed to the wood flooring. The wind was knocked from me. I choked for air, crawling to my knees and rubbing my sore arse. Robin's voice went silent in my head. My lip curled up ruefully.

Well? Aren't you going to say something?

Robin was still quiet, absolutely awestruck. I rolled my eyes.

Hello? You finally have a moment to mock me and you awkwardly remain silent?

…_Ha?_

I smacked my forehead. You could only ask so much for a twin brother you share the same body with. I couldn't complain too much, it was a step forward from usual. Maybe in a few hours' time, which is probably the amount of time we have left to live, give or take, he would learn to make a comeback with some amount of wit in it.

_You do realize I can hear what you're saying right now, right?_

Very aware of this, brother dearest.

_And you still monologue about me to people we're not supposed to know exist? You know how offended I get by that!_

What? Really? When would I ever offend you, Robby? I apologize for any minor confusion between the two of us about that.

_No, I'm not putting up with this again! You always make fun of me! You mock me and belittle me and I'm sick of it! It's been like this all my life! I never asked for you to just room with me in my body, it just happened that way. And, because of this and so many screwed up things in the world, we're in the Mutant Games. Don't you realize that we're all each other have? So, let's stop the arguing and try to win this._

"Oh," I said. Sarcastically, I wipe my eyes, sniffling. "That was so touching. Brings tears to my eyes. Have it ever occurred to you that you may be at fault here? Oh, poor Robin, always being picked on by big mean Damion. Why is it whenever things get rough, I'm forced into control? Whenever there's some minor inconvenience, Mr. Robin can't bear the thought of it?"

_That's not fair. You forced me to fight when we faced the Careers._

I rose to my feet, kicking aside the bench. "Yes, because pinning the fire user against the fire breather is totally not strategically sound. I'm cool with letting you play and be in charge. I honestly don't care at all. But, don't complain some like whiny little-"

Out of nowhere, my hand flew up towards my face. I watched in fascination as it slapped across my cheek. The sting didn't bother me much but I was overwhelmed more by the shock of my brother's actions. I stared at the reddened flesh of my palm, speechless for once. Rain and sweat was slick on my neck and it wasn't the cold that caused the small hairs residing there to stand on end. My body was tensed, seething with emotions deadened by disbelief.

_Who's a whiny little bitch now?_

I don't hesitate as I say, "Still you. Only this time, add self-centered onto the description."

Roughly, I felt myself being geared off-balance as if my legs had a mind of their own. No shit, they _did_ have a mind of their own. I stumbled down the steps and faceplanted the cement walkway hard. Strange warmth radiated from a deep source of my mind. It was a burning sensation, hate and angst that weren't my own. I breathed slowly outwards and sat back on my knees. Closing my eyes, I imagined peering inside my head. And I imagined punching that little nub I call my brother.

Pain started at the back of my head. Robin groaned. I crossed my arms tightly across my chest as the rain sent waves of chills down my spine. I was soaked to my skin.

"Robin!" I shouted. "Stop it. For once."

_Since when are you so demanding? What about Mr. Go With the Flow, Let-Robby-Do-What- He-Wants?_

"Since you developed a backbone," I replied. "Now look, it'd be ultra sucky if we ended up kill ourselves or whatever. At least get our heads blown up or something. But, dude, we both want to live. There's fourteen tributes left so there's still thirteen people left to kill us. And you know how the peanut gallery Capitol is; they probably want you to have an epic battle with Foe the Fire Breather." I paused, allowing the fact another two were dead to sink into Robin's conscious. The boy never paid attention. "So, if you promise to stop complaining, I'll," I gulped, unwilling to do this, "maybe, possibly, stop mocking you so much. Deal, bro?"

Robin considered for a moment. He sorely thought about the mental punch and the migraine he claimed to have. "Fine. It's not like we have much of a choice anyway."

I bit my tongue. Too soon, I was prepared to mock him. I need to watch myself. "Very good. Now, let's get out of this rain."

_**Foe Sterling, District 2**_

Once upon a time, there was a land very different from here. It had large hollowed mountains and tunnels running deep beneath these mountains. These mountains held thousands and thousands of people inside of it working in what are called quarries every day. They'd bustle about to cut away stones and ship off to the surface. Not everyone worked in these large mountains. Some trained to be knights. These knights didn't having the shining armor but instead white uniforms and magical sticks at their waist. Their horses were made of metal and they went to other distant lands to perform such duties. For the troublesome people of this kingdom, the knights would show their power by defeating these villains using snakes of robe that slice open the wrongdoer. That doesn't happen very often but often enough, due to the raging, angry queen known as Mayor. This land actually still existed today.

Now, in this land, lived a family, much like any normal place. This family was indeed normal. They had two daughters and listened to the laws and rules made by the Mayor. But it was because of these laws they hated the younger of their two daughters. Because, in this land, there were magical creatures in the land, there were magical people. These creatures and people did magical things. Some of them did cooler stuff than others. Some of them could do very dangerous things. The loved their abilities because it made them unique.

The Mayor didn't see this. She made laws that suppressed such activities like that of performing your mutation (I mean, magical power) in any way. It made normal people like this normal family hate the magical people. However, in this normal family, the second daughter was not normal. She was magical. She was a dragon.

Her parents found no use in such a feat. They instead adored the older daughter. Oh, the older daughter was beautiful and talented and cheery. Everyone loved this daughter and saw no wrong in her. The older daughter had lots of friends and plenty of knights that stormed her castle. She was like a princess.

But she was a mean and cruel princess, if she was one. Sure, she was fair and kind to nearly everyone. However, we must emphasize the 'nearly' of that statement. She was not nice to her younger sister. She was anything but.

The little dragon had grown sad, not having many friends. She'd go home crying from school some days after mean kids picked on her and found no one at home to care. Her sister relished the pain. It went on like this for a few years. The dragon became bitter and moody and snide and not many people liked her.

It came to a point where, finally, the dragon realized she didn't give a fuck.

I sharpened my sword using one of the tools left sitting around the Cornucopia. No one found it important and it took about an hour of me staring at it for me to recognize its use. That was all it took to see use in something. A few seconds to step back and look at something and think about it for a while.

Sadly, barely anyone ever did that. If they did, all of us in this world would get along a lot better than we do. We could realize the pain be inflict on a person or how much they're hurting and realize how little we are doing to stop it.

Like any of that was even important.

There were different parts to one story. There always was. There's a beginning, middle, and end. I was somewhere in the middle phase. My beginning was a complex one involving an overly bitchy sister and parents who paid no attention to their attention deprived daughter.

The middle had more blood and more burns. I was nearly healed now though. My body adapted to the burns quickly as Balthizar had ranted about. I wondered momentarily what the horned dude was doing but shoved the thought aside. He was with Alice Lynn somewhere, probably telling her another stupid fairytale.

I wonder how much she'd like my fairytale. It doesn't have an ending yet, so I don't really know. She'd probably add in her own special ending.

After Sandy had just about torn Bree a new one, we finally settled down and made camp. I took first watch, poised in the branches of a nearby tree, out of sight. Sandy was settled off on a lawn chair, feigning sleep. From the view of a random tribute, it'd appear Santiago was on watch. In actuality, it was me. The hopeful would creep up, eager to take out the cocky, snoozing Career when, hey, look, your neck is snapped. Didn't expect that one, did ya'?

Bree was actually sleeping on the grass one lawn over. Lupe was at the foot of my tree. His head hung limply down. He'd be so easy to kill.

"Why just not slit his throat now?" I mumbled.

"Because I can hear you?"

I almost toppled from the tree. Adjusting my position and fixing my ponytail, I looked down at the boy. His pointy face, in return, peered up at me. He was definitely awake and alert. We were well out of Santiago's earshot and Bree's snores could easily drown out our whispers.

"Don't scare me like that," I growled. "I'll only just kill you."

"Ah, the Career defense," Lupe beamed. "Kill first, ask questions second. The Pack certainly teaches me so much."

"And definitely don't be like Balthy," I glared. The dude was annoying. He and Alice Lynn could drive someone up the wall. But they could at least draw my attention away from Ms. Puppet Master.

Lupe cocked his head quizzically. "The horned fellow? Oh, no, I have a bit more common sense than that, my dear. I'm smarter than you realize, frankly."

I arched my eyebrows. "Is that so? And is there any way for you to possibly prove me wrong?"

"Well," he said. "I could. But I don't want to."

I snorted scathingly. I inched myself lower to be able to hear his hushed voice better. I don't know why we're being so quiet; he just started out like that and I matched his pitch. "Why?"

Lupe shrugged. "The time isn't ripe. There has to be a big scene, a big moment. You can't just do it on command, you kill everything. And you won't believe it one hundred percent until this moment does come." He twisted his face around and scratched his freckled cheek against the bark. Flecks of the tree's dark brown surface stuck to his face, standing out next to his lighter freckles. "It's a very touchy business and needs to be done very carefully to get the wow factor one desires."

This kid was fucking with me, right? By his expression, he wasn't. I pursed my lips I stared down at him.

"So, you're saying," I paused, trying to find the right words to describe the situation, "that you'd rather just have me believe you're stupid, the person who can easily kill you in the next second for not finding you useful, for the sake of being dramatic?"

Lupe blinked once. "Basically. And, I say, it'd take you more like two seconds to kill me if I'm unprepared."

I shook my head, adjusting myself to my original position. "Kid, you are crazy."

"You call me kid," he pointed out, "but we're the same age."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

That didn't quite turn out like I had planned.

Let's momentarily go back in time to my original actions.

It took me about forty-five minutes to find the car. I obviously couldn't continuously press the clicker to hear the alarm beep. If I could hear it down the block, so could all the other tributes. That's a big no-no in the Mutant Games world. People tended to kill you when they heard you. So, yes, I risked another click or two when I finally found it.

I had seen cars before. Just not too many of them. I had ridden one from the Justice Building to the train. And I had seen them on TV and important dudes driving around in them throughout the district.

I had never quite thought to pay attention to how they got the car in motion.

The metal machine was shiny and glossy and, despite the windows being just about gone, looked practically brand new. It was in much better shape than the ones in the district and more like those on TV driven by the Capitol citizens. I inched forward and spent thirty seconds figuring out how to open. In my defense, it was locked. I wasn't that blonde. Only when I put my hand inside and pressed a few buttons did that shiny thing pop up. At first, I thought it was some sort of trap, with the rapid clicks, and I leapt back several feet. After a safe five minutes, involving throwing nearby objects at the car to see if there were any little bombs or such, I walked forward once again and threw open the door, crawling inside.

Anyone here ever experience the first moment's confusion of trying to drive a car? I'll tell you, it made you feel stupid, especially when you see all those Capitol idiots bustling around that busy city. In retrospect, they probably owned thirty cars and hired some dude to drive them to places. Or better yet, had some Avox do it. I won't go too deep into how long it took me to get the car started because it'd take up all my time. And it didn't help a person's self-confidence.

And then came the actual driving of the car.

Ambitiously, I slammed my foot down on the gas and the vehicle squealed unwillingly. Taken off-guard, I pulled back. Loud sounds were big another big no-no of the moment and it drilled a migraine through my skull. I drummed my fingers on the wheel and wiped my sweaty palms off on the vinyl seats. Much slower, I pressed down on the gas pedal. The vehicle made a similar sound. I stared confusingly at the dashboard.

It took some time and common sense for me to adjust the lever thing onto D. I pressed my toe daintily on the gas. The car jolted forward and I took my foot off. My nose smacked the wheel and blood began dripping down my face. Oh, super.

I tore a small piece of my skirt (this thing actually came in hand a lot) off and held it to my bleeding nostrils. I applied the gas again, starting off slowly.

"Let's see what this baby can do."

What that baby did was crash several times. I didn't die, though, so let's all be thankful for that. The worst was when I hit the house…but how about we call that mere parking? Because my goal was to stop and get out of the car as I saw the cat dude. He was just as out of it as me, he didn't even hear me coming.

I didn't lead him on as well as I could. The gas was still in my system and I wasn't doing my best portrayal of the girl. My heart was still beating by the end of our encounter and it was his cannon that went off. If I'm not mistaken, it was Zander who was in unicorn form when I drove past. If I wasn't so rushed and if my brain wasn't so muddled, I would have had the sense to run them over. Ah, a missed opportunity. There'll be another.

Now, all I was focused on was finding…

...what the fuck did that girl do?

I jerked to a stop and stared at the road I was heading down. It seemed it no longer existed. The concrete was thrown aside and the grass was uprooted in dirt clods from the ground. Houses were in shattered pieces and a nail stabbed the bottom of my foot. There was only one person who could cause such destruction.

I grabbed the lever on the door and turned it. The window rolled down. Sticking my head out, I shouted, "Annabelle!"

What did she do? Didn't she ever listen to me! All I told her was to sit and don't move a damn inch. And she went and blew up the street. She might have even been that cannon from earlier, blowing herself up!

I stopped the car in the middle of the street and shut it off. The world was silent, all except for a voice. Voices were not good. It was hushed, high-pitched, and soft, like a young girl and it sang sweetly. Definitely not Annabelle. Annabelle couldn't carry a tune. It sounded like a pretty song but any type of song sang in silence by a little girl was made ten times creepier than it was originally. I decided, even if Annabelle was near there, I wouldn't head in that direction. It was one of the number one rules of scary movies; don't move towards the scary sounds.

I walked on what would be the general area of where the sidewalk would be if it hadn't been, you know, blown up. She had to be somewhere here if she didn't kill herself. Why did I bother searching for her in the first place?

"Annabelle!" I shouted again. "If you're out here, come out, right now. Come out or I'm leaving!"

The singing abruptly ceased.

"Fuck." I was screwed, so very, very, very screwed. My brother and I used to watch the horror movies that aired late at night if the electricity was working. When the creepy music stopped, you knew shit was about to go down. I held my hammer, still dripping with blood, tightly. Slowly, I backed away, ran off to the car, and climbed back inside the car. If Annabelle was not in the sky tonight, I'd come back. But let's not waste my time and residual lifespan on the possibility of her being alive.

I geared the car into drive and glanced around one last time for Annabelle. I was hoping the dark square would just usefully pop out and blow the sound up.

And just as suddenly, a centaur leapt onto the roof of the car.

Oh. Hi.

**Poll is up. Four choices, make them count.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three- <strong>(Zander, Chrys)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five <strong>–(Annabelle)**  
>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -<strong>(Chrys, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six <strong>–(Alix)**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Alix Estelle, District Nine <strong>–(Lauryn)**  
>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten <strong>–(Brandy)**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	36. Day Three: Murder is a Strong Word

**That disheartening moment when you start seeing the commercials on TV for back-to-school shopping…and you haven't started **_**any**_** of your summer assignments.**

**Not like that's me…heh.**

_**Annabelle Hallestar, District 10**_

Brandy must be so proud! She was a glutton for chaos. She called me that a lot. I have no idea why. Anyway, she was going to be so happy!

I ran down the stairs of the steeple, resisting the urge to yell down the spiraled steps to hear my echo. I bellowed earlier into the bell up at the top and it shouted back at me so loudly that my ears started ringing. For some reason, my head was all loopy and the rebounding sound made me dizzy. It was like that when I woke up. I thought it was that morning daze, when the sleep was still in your eyes and made everything bleary. It was as if my eyes were permanently blurry. Before I knew it, I had stumbled and fell headlong. I rapidly somersaulted, my head bumping the stairs and the edge of one jabbing my back. I finally hit the beginning platform, slamming into the door that leads to this stairway. It gave way to my force and I and the door clattered to the floor beyond its threshold, every muscle and bone in my body hurting.

For a long time, I lay on the ground motionlessly. I stared at the ceiling above my head. It was a small room behind the really big one. It was like an office with small windows. Light filtered in from outside but there wasn't much, due to the storm clouds blocking out the sun. Pain radiated through me, licking at my fingertips. It was as if it my body stung all the way to the tips of my curled hair.

Somehow, everything was dulled. The colors in the room, the light outside, the coldness of the air, the pain in my bones. My neck was stiff. I was surprised I wasn't dead. It was always a little surprising to wake up every day and be alive. There were nearly half the amount of tributes. Hear that, half the tributes! Me or Brandy could win! I'd be happy to know if Brandy won, she's great at the Games. It was usually the sneaky people or scary people who won.

Achingly, I limped to the next doorway and to the ginormous sanctuary. Pews lined themselves neatly. Columns ran down on the far walls, intricately designed. The place gave off an air of something old, something sacred. Both my ankles were barely able to move. My wrist was bent backwards at a really strange angle. It didn't hurt as much as my ankles. It didn't hurt at all.

The windows were stained glass with a pictures of people dressed in long purple robes. Their faces were shrouded in the shadow of their hoods. Their eyes were invisible to me but their skin tones were a variety of colors and mouths wide, gaping, sinister things. Chills shivered down my spine. Left weren't nice people. There were other pictures but I vaguely grasped their meaning. Why was that bird on fire?

Suddenly, there was a scream from outdoors. I gasped aloud. That could be Brandy. Or another tribute. If it were Brandy, she could be in danger. If it were another tribute, Brandy would want me to blow them up! I pushed open the large, heavy doors and felt the rain fall down on me. My clothes were soaked almost instantly.

Only a block away, amongst the rubble, a large car was parked. A strange man stood atop of it.

A car? It could only be Brandy! She was smart enough to drive a car!

Awkwardly shifting my feet, I sprinted ahead to help.

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

I couldn't help it; seeing the centaur on the roof of my car, I screamed. I screamed like the fourteen year old girl I was.

The creature cocked its head curiously off to one side and he lowered his human half down in a sort of bow. Wait, no, he was sniffing me. Its eyes were completely black, looking as dull and stupid as any normal horse. I wasn't even certain if he were staring directly at me. Raindrops began splattering across the window and I pressed myself backwards into the seat. The rain had intensified and I glanced about the dashboard, trying to pinpoint the spot lever that started the windshield wipers.

_He can't exactly get you, _I told myself. _How can anyone, or anything, sniff someone through, like, an inch of glass?_

I spoke too soon. Because, at that moment, the centaur slammed a hoof straight through the window.

Glass shattered down upon me and I threw my arms up to protect my face. A few shards managed to cut my skin. Blindly, once the assault had ended, I pushed random buttons and toggled levers. A small part of me hoped desperately there'd be an ejector's seat or rockets or _anything_. The centaur sniffed me once again, nostrils flared. I was sure I spotted hair growing in there. He raised a hoof again to enlarge the rough circle. I reacted frantically and the only thing I could think to do was plow my foot down on the button.

The hoof shattered through the window again but had lost most of its momentum. In my pandemonium of pushing buttons, I had adjusted the shift to Reverse. The centaur, unprepared for the sudden jolt, stumbled off the roof. He skidded with a horrible scraping sound along the asphalt, crumpled to the ground, but stood and shagged himself off. I was still zooming backwards, checking behind me for any obstructions. I suddenly understood the purpose of the mirror attached to the ceiling. I repositioned it, peering to the road behind me, when I saw the person standing there.

I stretched my left foot and brought it down with everything in me onto the brake. The wheels shrieked mercilessly and the person idling in the road stared with dopey eyes like a deer in the headlights. I swore aloud and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

A loud _thump _came, followed by what sounded like a large body being dragged. The car eventually stopped and I slowly opened my eyes. Dammit!

My knuckles were ghostly white and my face matched the sickly color as I glanced into one of the mirrors. I raised my eyes to see the road ahead of me. Black tire marks etched themselves into the pavement and my stomach squelched at the sight of blood smeared between the lines. Honestly, I didn't feel guilty. I regretted looking, not my actions.

A cannon fired.

Farther up the road, the centaur was charging after me with a broken pole in his hand. It reminded of one of those cavalier types from long ago, mid-stride in a joust. At first glance, you'd suspect such a thing, a bare-chested man riding his steed. But a second look proved the man and horse were one. And the end was pointed directly at me.

I fumbled for the lever on the side of the car. He was closer now. My limbs became panicky and I barely managed to open the door. It swung open and I tumbled out, legs still tangled up inside.

The centaur got there a second later. The pole tore through the headrest, just where my head had been a second beforehand. I screamed again, scrabbling away on my hands and knees, finally climbing to my feet. My eyes were able to sweep the rear of the car and the body beneath it. I frowned in confusion.

…That wasn't Annabelle's body. That was…that was a troll.

Whose cannon fired?

I whipped my head around and spotted the bloody mess of filthy fabric that was Annabelle Hallestar. She lay a fair distance away from the car. It didn't take too long to comprehend that her head was bashed in.

I released my hammer from my waist and raised it defensively. But the centaur wasn't advancing. His head wasn't even directed my way. I followed his gaze to the small pigtailed girl.

She was kneeling down beside the car, examining the road kill tangled within the tires. She prodded him once, twice, her eyes shining sadly with tears. She stroked the stubby, filth covered foot sticking out from under the car.

Silently, I began creeping away, carefully stepping over Annabelle. Her block shaped head was literally dented. Blood still leaked out from a fresh kill. That alliance was nice while it lasted. To think, without me, how far along would we be in this competition? There'd be about five tributes still playing the Game.

The centaur clopped forward and rested a hand on the young District One girl's shoulder. She gazed up at him and smiled wearily. I continued tiptoeing past. I stepped right into the puddle of blood, slowly being washed away by the downpour, and groaned inwardly at it. That was literally going to be a pain in the ass to clean. That car was looking real comfortable now. They have heaters if I'm not mistaken. Nice, warm heaters and a big back seat, great for napping. I stepped over a branch…and found it not to be a branch.

The wood was roughly polished and had an array of nails or, more appropriately, thorns embedded in the side. It was a roughly crafted club, large unreal leaves wrapped around the bottom as a grip for the handle. The opposite end was splattered with blood. Ah, so that's what happened to the brick. I quietly grabbed it, dragging it along beside me.

The car was running, I observed. How long could it last? It needed gas or something, right? It looked like it could work still, despite being crushed by a centaur.

"Come back for it later," I muttered. Alice Lynn was distracted but the centaur would easily trample me if I stepped anywhere near here. Wait, how did I know her name? I pushed the thought aside. That was a stood thing to worry about at a time as crucial as now. So, instead of advancing, I receded. The little girl was in over her head. She volunteered for this shit? And thought it'd be fun? Welcome to the real world, where your little fantasy creatures get run over.

A pointed object stabbed into the small of my back.

My heart instantly jolted and I reacted on instinct. It was possibly one of the only things I remembered from the training days, not to mention it was roughly edited to the point that I just went with it.

Hammer in my hand, I spun around. The sharp edge dragged along my skin and I felt a wound open along its path. I hooked the hammer's head around the blade pressing into me and thrust it off to the side. I literally sighed with relief as I saw it was simply a knight in shining armor. His sword flew away and slid through the slick grass.

The knight hissed angrily at me. Through the gaps in his helmet, I saw a face that was anything but normal. Now when a person wears a hundred pounds worth of metal on him, what problem does he face?

I kicked him hard, with every ounce of strength I had, right in the middle of his metal abs. With a heavy clatter, the creature toppled backwards, flopping like a fish out of water as he attempted to rise again. I heaved the club up and, with a mighty swing, smashed it down on the knight. He squealed like a crazed demon.

I looked over my shoulder and mumbled obscenities. The centaur plowed forward and I spun in a complete circle, using the momentum to throw it. It nailed the horse man in the knee and he collapsed almost immediately. He whinnied in pain, a strange sound to hear from a human mouth.

Behind him, the girl walked forward. Her eyes had lost all the light in them. I could no longer swallow and I swore that face was going to haunt me in my dreams tonight. She glared intensely. Her small fists were tensed and she clamped her jaw down hard. She looked like she was about to break a tooth.

"Don't hurt my babies," she barked. "Never, ever, ever, ever, never, ever hurt them!"

I glanced from side to side. Casually, I inched to the left. A few more inches and it'd be a clear shot to the car door….

"Uh, I think it may be too late for that," I said. "But, you know, maybe some band aids, a parachute with some needle and thread." Keep her distracted for just a few more seconds…. "The horse dude, well, he won't be the same adventurer as he was before, but he'll be fine. Let him heal for a day or two."

"That is totally mean! You are…you are…" her face burned red "…a big fat wart-faced meanie head with yellow teeth and bad breath!"

I laughed. "Sorry, hon, but I've been called a lot worse. That's toward the top of my list though. A plus for originality."

She growled-literally growled like some monster-and pointed a stubby finger at me. "I have words in my head that my brother uses that my mommy told me to never ever use because they are really bad! Don't you make me use them, because I'll say you said them and you'll get in a lot of trouble."

I placed my hands on my hips. We were facing off and the palms of the Alice's hands were darkening. She was near ready to explode like she was a balloon and I was puffing the angry air into her. "Oh, I'm shaking in my saddle shoes! Please, my mommy will be so upset!"

District One screeched, "You-"

"Oh, shit, look!" I pointed behind her. Hooray, for the attention span of a five year old! The girl's evil gaze drifted in the direction of my finger. I swiftly dived back into the car, shifted it into drive, and floored it. It sputtered for several seconds, burning rubber, but shot off down the road. Glass stabbed parts of my ass that should not be stabbed and I nearly lost my fingers as I closed the door shut. I didn't check the mirror to see if the girl was pursuing.

I didn't want to know.

_**Chrys Gord, District 11**_

"What?" Zander inquired. My eyes flickered from his arm around my shoulders to his face, up to the sky, then back to his face. I wished I could say it was his mutation that made him this good-looking. It'd be so much easier if he was. But he wasn't trying to morph his appearance. He thought it was funny to make himself look uglier. No, the boy had to be gorgeous. And he had to be such a flirt.

"I'm not that cold," I said. Did he hear my teeth clicking together?

"Yes you are," Zander smirked. We dashed out in the open, following Neve. We both had silently agreed she could take the reins for a while. A small part of me itched to ensure that everything was moving productively. My life was no longer on schedule and it drove me insane. One could not live like this. Life certainly wasn't going to last much past this. Neve and I were alike in that way; we were both goal-oriented. I admitted to myself she needed to be distracted for the moment. I still couldn't shake the thought of Leon lying there…blood all over….

"What about Neve? She must be cold." The girl tilted her head towards us, acknowledging her name.

"Oh, well, she has less curves on her, it won't take as much energy to warm her up. You, my friend, need the extra effort." Neve narrowed her eyes quizzically at him, waving us under the cover of a doorway to a diner. We stood cramped together as we tried to avoid the rain.

"May I ask how good your grades in school are?" she asked. She pushed on the door of the diner and it opened.

Zander slicked his soaking hair back. "Mainly B's, with a few A's. Why ya' ask?"

"No reason." Neve stepped inside. We followed closely behind. The scene that met us was one I knew was going to haunt me.

Blood. A lot of it. Neve actually slipped in it upon entering and I grabbed her arm, providing support. She laid her hand over mine as she steadied herself. Zander's finger dug into my shoulder.

"Are they dead?" he whispered tersely in my ear. I wasn't prepared to be the one to find out. Instead, I released Neve and she bent down over the nearest girl. I could honestly say I've never seen her before in my life. I didn't remember seeing her at any point during the pre-Games or during recaps, anywhere. She was about fourteen with a splattering of freckles across her nose.

Zander wrapped his arms around me. I was too stunned to push him away. Instead, I leaned into him. His warm breath tickled my neck but it was comforting to feel against my skin. Neve held two fingers to the girl's neck and we stood quietly.

"She's alive. But barely. She's bled out a lot." She crossed her arms tightly around herself. She strode over to the next girl, not much smaller than the first. Neve checked her pulse. The girl stirred momentarily and we all leapt back. The wind whistled in through the broken windows and Neve's skirt fluttered.

"Alright. She's alive too," Zander said tensely. "She's from District Six. Lauryn, I think her name is." He guided me, putting a hand in the crook of my elbow, to the farther part of the diner. He put a noticeable girth between us and the two young girls, stopping once we stood behind Neve. She rose to full height, which wasn't very much, and dusted herself off.

"So," she said. "What do we do?"

We exchanged a look between each other. Neve paled considerably. I gripped my frying pan tighter. No one spoke.

"Do you recognize this one?" Zander indicated the fourteen year old. Both Neve and I shook our heads. So it wasn't just me. "And you said she was barely alive?"

"If she doesn't get medical treatment and depending on the last time she ate, I'd say another day," Neve said. "She was closer to the windows. And…it's like she was playing with the glass or something. There's this really big one," she gestured to a shard stuck in the skin above her knee, "that cut a major artery. It's where most of the blood is flowing from, as you can see." She widened her eyes and they glistened sadly. "I'm sorry, I can't kill her. Not like this."

"Who ever said we were planning to kill them!" I snapped.

"Who ever said we weren't?" Zander said in a monotone very unlike him.

That shut everyone up.

Zander released his hold on me. It only took one yank for him to pull the frying pan out of my hands and he strode toward the girl. His chest heaved heavily as he took in a breath. His shoulders sagged forward as he blew it out once again. He was smaller. It was like he was caving in on himself. He rose the frying pan up with one hand and I swore his hands were shaking. Neve shook her head. She instead pinched the bridge of her nose and brushed her damp hair behind her ears. I silently made note to tie it back in a braid for her later.

"That won't do it," she said. "It'll take too long."

"What ideas do you have then?" Zander said.

Neve shrugged, throwing her arms up helplessly. "I don't know, okay?"

"Why do we have to kill them?" I added.

Zander walked towards me again. He cupped the sides of my face in his palms. I glared off to the side but Zander's gaze demanded I look at him. "Do you plan on going home?" I tried twisting away but he only gripped me tighter. "Tell me, do you?"

"I hope so," I whispered.

He was right. He didn't need to explain himself any further. If we had any hope of going home, everyone else would have to die, including these girls.

I pulled away, slipping our bag off my shoulders. There was a more inconspicuous flap in the front and I dug my hand in it to the bottom. I handed the knife to Zander.

"Since when did we have this?" he asked. I remained silent. Zander opened his mouth to argue but I shook my head, motioning to the girl.

He pressed his lips together and kneeled down beside her. How long ago was it that this was Leon's body?

"One…" Zander whispered.

Instead, she was still alive. And it was our decision to kill her.

"Two…"

We were murdering her in cold blood. A girl we didn't even bother to know the name of or the place she came from. Brandy at least gave Leon a fighting chance. Zander was killing her in her sleep.

_We_ were killing her in her sleep.

"Three."

The blade slice across her exposed throat. And god, you never realize how much a throat bleeds until you sever the jugular in half.

Her cannon sounded almost instantly. Neve refused to watch. My attention wasn't focused on her. It wasn't even focused on the dead girl or the bloody Zander shakily holding a knife in his hand.

I was fixated on Lauryn, whose eyes were widening in horror as she stared at the murdered tribute.

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy, Lupe)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three- <strong>(Zander, Chrys)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy, Lupe)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Lupe)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five<br>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -**(Chrys, Neve)**  
>Lauryn Rivera, District Six<br>**Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Alix Estelle, District Nine_(Throat slit by Zander)_**  
><strong>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten _(Head bashed in by Alice Lynn's troll)_**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven <strong>–(Foe, Bree, Sandy)**  
>Avara Zenia, District Twelve<br>Robin/Damion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	37. Gamemaker: PJ's Bitch

**I'm going to be blatantly honest here guys; I had a shitty week, which may explain the gap between updating. **

_**Gamemaker PJ**_

"Ember!" I called. My fingers drummed aimlessly on the keyboard. Boredom, if you couldn't tell, was devouring my soul. Soon, I was to be a mere carcass, empty of emotion. "Ember! Eeeeember! Em. Ber. Ember…."

The girl slammed the mug down on my desk. Hot chocolate spilt over the rim and dribbled down the sides leaving shining streaks against the ceramic surface. I raised an eyebrow at the liquid. It was still steaming.

"No, no," I said. "This chocolate will certainly not scald me. Just slam it down wherever you please without consideration of the Gamemaker who has the ability to ruin your life." I leaned my chin into my palms, smirking sidelong at her. A forced smile stretched painstakingly across her face. Wow, she had braces? Not just normal braces, no, but diamond encrusted ones. You don't notice them until you really look at the person. But looking at people? While you're organizing the Mutant Games? Ha, you humor me.

"Oh, my mistake," she said. Huh, it was a tossup. I wasn't sure, but the tone could have been either frighteningly nervous or overly sarcastic. I resisted the urge to stroke my chin ponderously.

Ember pulled a handkerchief from her dress's skirt and wiped the minor spill up. I nodded approvingly, taking a sip once she had placed it back down. Oh, this was a good mix. I inhaled the scent of cocoa deeply through my nose, reclining in my chair. Ember stood with her hands neatly folded before her and resting on her dress, heels together, and standing with ladylike poise. It brought a snicker out of me.

"So what do you think?" I asked. Ember cocked her head off to the side. Curls cascaded off her shoulders and rebounded momentarily like Slinkys. How the hell did that come to mind? "The whole Gamemaking process. What do you think of it?" I gestured ambiguously at the room around us.

She nodded as she strung together the words. "It's a lot different from what I imagined."

I chuckled. "Be honest. I can handle it, intern"

Ember pursed her ruby red lips and fidgeted with her glasses. "I expected…this sounds childish, but I was imagining something magical and extravagant and there'd be secret codes and massive screens with little replicas of the arena and blue prints of this or that. The Gamemakers are, like, only one level below the President, too, and I didn't anticipate them to be like, you know, normal people. My parents used to tell me these stories of the Gamemakers and how cunning and intelligent they are. Most of the people I see around here are only ever good at button pressing." She rose her hands up defensively. "It's still fascinating, just in a way that's the total opposite from my expectations."

I tapped my pen against my chin while she spoke. Ember clamped her mouth shut, worried she had said the wrong thing, once she was finished.

"How did you expect me to be like?"

Ember cringed and said, "Uh, I thought of someone who was more aloof and mysterious and wise."

"Ah," I grinned. "And you've kept to my advice?"

"The tidbits I could understand," she admitted. She wrapped a curl around her finger and blinked innocently over the edge of her glasses.

"You haven't gotten in anyone's pants? You do know that those are just empty promises. If anyone, you'd need to get in my pants and, sorry, you're too frilly for me."

The intern wrinkled her nose and took a step away from me. "Gosh, no. I have a fiancé in the Capitol Forces and I would never want to ruin it for an affair so petty. And no offense to the guys who work here but ew." A shudder traveled down the length of her back, causing her skirt to rustle. "Most of them keep giving me bizarre looks and it's starting to get incredibly disturbing. Some actually did suggest such means. I was too embarrassed to respond, my face was burning bright red. It's why I come in so early."

"And I thank you for that." I raised my cup in toast to her. My free hand rested on the freshly organized paperwork, drumming my fingers on the manila envelopes and fancy embroidered folders. Ember bit her bottom lip and clicked her heels together innocently. I viewed her critically, from her neat, unnaturally blonde hair to her shimmering, glitter covered red shoes. I took a sip from my mug and smacked my lips, tasting the chocolate remnants. She was somewhere in her late teens to early twenties. Across her nose, she had freckles in the form of miniscule gemstones that twinkled in the light of the computer monitors and only added furthermore to her overall look of innocence.

"I'd like to say, I don't ask to be nice," I said. "Hell, when am I ever 'nice'? I say all this because the moment I find out someone is bending my intern to their will, all parties involved will be fired or excommunicated or however you say it. Including the intern. And, frankly, a lot of people will be feeling my wrath because, when I lose my intern, I lose the indentured servant who fetches me hot chocolate. If I need to get my own hot chocolate, well, we're going to be having problems here." Ember stared at me dumbfound, mouth hanging open a fraction of an inch. Upon realizing how dopey she looked, she snapped it shut. The teeth clicked together with an audible click that carried in the room.

I zoomed in on action occurring in the arena, nodding approvingly. My mouth twisted downwards a second later. Why was the rain slowing? It's supposed to keep going! It's supposed to get worse. I shook my head and pressed my finger on the intercom button.

"Boys, rain!" I barked. For all I cared, it was a woman on the other end. It was easier to yell at guys, however. Did I need to explain why? Most of the Gamemakers were men any way, which could explain why my rain was not at a sufficient magnitude and more strictly why I was prepared to go tear into one of these douchebags. I toggled between cameras, feeling my mounting exasperation and anger. "And where's the Retrievers? I told you to launch those two hours ago! And that grass isn't going to strangle people on its own." I growled and pounded my fist against the speaker. My concentration was so rattled I left a dent in the metal screening. Ember gasped and, glancing over my shoulder, I spotted her slender hand cover her mouth. I smirked but once my head was turned back to the speaker, I pursed my lips sheepishly. It popped back to shape once I pressed my palm to the metal. There was the moment my glove melded to the device and I couldn't yank it free. I instead resorted to pretending that was exactly what I had planned to do, tearing my hand from my metal restraints. I frowned. It was my favorite metal glove. It took me forever to construct.

Seizing my mug, I hopped to my feet and strolled out my office, only pausing for the door to slide open. Ember's heels clicked with each step on the tile floor, bound to strike one of my nerves somewhere on this journey. I had a finger readied (no, it was the one meant for pointing) but I saw she was carrying all my paperwork. Having her as human pack mule, I figured, would be helpful since it'd be easiest to slap the lackeys with it. Gamemakers? They were more button pushers if anything.

It was a shock they didn't trip over their stupid purple robes which they insisted on wearing daily. Try spending a few hours of your day in a room full of grown men who bathe in cologne in an attempt to mask the scent of body odor. Trust me. You don't want to. Let's say, if you were that one individual in the world who'd willingly commit themselves to such a torture, you better be making a whole lot of money off a bet. And I mean a lot of money.

It took an elevator trip, some side doors, one voice analyzer, and the threatening of a guard to arrive to the official Gamemaker's room. I avoid it at all costs and do as much work as I possibly can from my own little office. They did little work in actually providing towards the Games as a whole. I was perfectly fine with that. Give them the idea they are worthy and important. Let them go out and bathe in the glory and honor affirmed onto them by adoring audiences and TV personalities. As long as my Games turn out the way they are planned, I was happy. When Gamemaker PJ wasn't happy, well, no one was going to be happy.

I stood before the double doors and the sweat dripping from my hair line nearly sizzled as my face burned angrily. Beyond this barrier, I heard laughter. Not the busy typing of keys, not the mumbled arguing over a detail to alter or camera angle to adjust, not the minor scraping of a chair leg along the floor. I heard laughter. Laughter? In my Gamemaking room?

I flexed my wrists, stretching my fingers wide to push the doors open. Upon entrance, an object flew through the room, colliding with my forehead. It barely made a sound, even less of a one as it rolled across the floor. Everyone went silent immediately. The few who continued their laughter had their backs turned to me and their company swiftly slapped their shoulders. Only when they began to argue did they notice the uneasy faces around them and spun to gaze blankly at me, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

They were scattered about the room. Some were standing, while others propped themselves haphazardly against large machines and on the main table. Glasses, all either filled to the top or with a few remaining drops (none exactly empty), were sitting in places that would result in sparks flying and machines malfunctioning if even one hand tipped them too far over.

The cork that had hit me rolled all the way to feet of the closest Gamemaker. I'm surprised I hadn't leapt forward, grabbed the so-called man by the collar and screamed bloody murder at him. I crossed my arms and dug my fingers into the fleshy part of my bicep, every ounce of anger pouring from my fingertips. The morons before me were still gaping, all except the leader of all the morons. I regretted the day I approved him of moving up to Gamemaker rank.

"I'd ask what we were all doing here," I said to no one in particular, all the while my eyes drilling into Drake. "But it seems it's all self-explanatory."

Drake scowled angrily back at me, his large brown eyes unable to completely mask his shakiness from me. His confidence had grown incredibly, I must admit. He was harder to hold down under my thumb. One day, it was bound to screw me over.

That was why I had to end it soon before he slipped from my control and made an idiot of himself.

Made an idiot of me for allowing an incompetent fool such as him to work amongst those held in the highest regard and power.

"We were celebrating, PJ," he said, carelessly tossing an arm around his Gamemaker companions closest in proximity. "Being a Gamemaker is no easy feat, as you'd know."

"I've been told as much," I said sarcastically. I snapped my fingers which brought the group's attention back to me. Many of their eyes had begun to trail over to Ember beside me. She ducked shyly behind the stack piled high in her arms, hopeful to avoid their ogling stares. I rolled my eyes.

"Everyone, listen up and listen well because if this doesn't process in the dense noggin you all share, then surely some of you will begin to miss the light of day." I sipped my hot chocolate and scowled down into the surface of the drink, dissolved marshmallows floating on the top. It was no longer hot, just vaguely warm. I added it atop of Ember's load, not quite caring if she dropped it. "I know all of you are super excited about being Gamemakers and all and just adore the purple robes. I mean, who wouldn't? It's just so cozy and the fabric is perfect for cuddling and who wouldn't screw a guy in a purple robe. But sadly enough, a certain amount of work is involved while wearing the robe. You all actually have to make the Games if you want to Games to be a success after all, am I right? Hence the word 'Gamemaker'."

I scanned the group, resting my eyes on Drake again. "Yet, you are celebrating. Celebrating before you have even finished your job. Wouldn't that jinx future events? Jinx everything I have worked so meticulously to do? I say that's rather unfair to me."

The Gamemakers shifted uncomfortably on their feet, weight swaying from one side to the other. "And, while all of you are celebrating, my Games are beginning to crumble as you conveniently forget to release and activate the mutations and traps and other oddities I have marked as imperative to the Mutant Games as a whole. So allow me to say it now as I have this all laid out on the table for you; if you as much as let loose a specimen a second late, I will send you into the Games myself and say you are vicious monsters that will kill you if you don't kill it. Who knows what will become of you?" I cracked my knuckles. "Clear?"

All eyes gazed at me wide. My voice increased in volume as I shouted, "I said am I clear?!"

Everyone quickly nodded in consent. It was who chose to Drake stared me down, to question my authority. I had taught him a lot during his time as intern, but had also inadvertently taught him how to rebel; the exact opposite of what the Capitol stands for. It was the battle of wills now. Whose was stronger? Who would give out first?

Drake tore his eyes away. "Crystal."

I smirked. "Good. Now," I gestured broadly, "I will be back in five-no, I'm feeling generous, make that ten-minutes for you all to be working. I don't care on what. Take a file and start working on that," I stuck a thumb over my shoulder at Ember, "and get some lightning going. Don't electrocute the tributes, though. That'll ruin the fun."

They all were frozen in place, gaping stupidly at Ember. Finally, I threw my hands up and, after taking my mug safely off the stack, shoved all the papers to the floor. My intern let loose a tiny screech as she watched her organization flutter away.

"Don't just stand there," I barked, sipping my cocoa. "Get going!"

Spinning on my heel, I marched from the room. Ember's heels clicked behind me, traveling twice as fast to keep up with my long strides. Rounding a corner, I stopped and the intern almost collided with me. She quickly fixed herself, smoothing her skirt and straightening her curls. I drank my chocolate and enjoyed her being momentarily disordered. Lipstick smeared her diamond braces.

"Was that the smartest idea?" she panted. I shrugged, leaning back on a wall. The bemused smirk couldn't help but come across my face. "They'll be like chickens with their heads cut off."

"But they'll do their work." I continued moving back to my office once again, however, at a much slower pace. Ember wasn't weighed down by the files, either, and matched my long strides with faster, shorter ones. "Do I care in what kind of matter it happens?"

"I'd say no," she sighed. It made me chuckle. "But if you want them to do their work, maybe you should be nicer."

"Nicer?" I scoffed. "You humor me, doll face. If I were nicer, they'd walk all over me."

Ember pursed her bow shaped lips. "My fiancé is a very nice man. He's of high rank in the Capitol Forces and the men always hold him in high-"

"That's the thing," I said. "He is a very nice man. I am not."

Ember blinked rapidly before it processed on what I was getting at. "Isn't that, like, so last millennium? Or the one before that?"

I laughed grimly. "Or so you'd think. But some people-some men-have not changed their way of seeing the world. Surely, most of the Capitol respect my actions and are blind to what gender I am. Most don't even know," I added with a wink, running my hand over my short hair. "But then there are those who actually work with you and know how you are. They see that you are different, that you cannot be controlled like most and instead see you as a freak of nature."

The intern looked stunned. We were in the elevator up to my office when she finally spoke. "But…doesn't that make you worse than they are?" I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but…you can't judge people on some idea in your head."

"Judge people? I am saying what they truly are! Pigs that wallow in their own filth and still think themselves rich. They're greedy and power hungry. Why, if I weren't in charge, who would be? Where would we be? I can't imagine the victims they'd have left in their wake." I took Ember by her shoulders. With the few additional inches from her heals, she still only reached my nose. "We need more women in this field. Strong, independent women. I see you have the potential but you're not seeing what is so obviously before you! We need girls like you to take the positions important to Panem."

Ember, I found, was an interesting being. She always gave the impression she was soft-spoken and naïve and eager to please. But that, I saw now, was very much a façade she put on for me. Her fists balled up and she looked me hard in the eye.

"Did you have some sort of Daddy issues when you were younger or something?"

Ouch. That was a good one. Nicked at those little chords leading to my heart.

"Perhaps," I admitted. I shoved my mug into her hands. The small respect I had for her was gone now. She'd have to work long and hard to earn it back. And after Drake, I don't think such a troublesome intern would make for a Gamemaker. "Now get me a new cup of cocoa. And I don't want to see your face in my office until you burn your hands by touching the outside."

I stepped into my office and watched her face as the doors closed. The animosity mounted and I swore I heard her screech in frustration through the metal barrier as it closed.

That bitch was going to be fired as soon as these Games were over.

My father…I visited the man when my parents were on speaking terms, or rather sleeping terms. He would take me to stores and to the ice cream shop and shower me in gifts. So did the array of visitors that came to my mother in the midst of the night, or day, or the time in between. Not all of them were nice men, mind you.

That made me not a very nice girl.

Sliding into my chair, I rolled up towards my monitors. I hated interns. They were whiny, goody-two-shoes who hoped to be the next great thing by doing very little. It was pathetic. The only way for these Games to go smoothly was for me to do it myself and on my own.

I shoved my headphones over my ears, flicking between scenes. The outlying District trio had captured the Capitol's attention at the moment so I took the liberty to look at the rest of the tributes. The loners were easy to look through and I found myself staring at the Careers for a bit when another screen brought my eyes to it. It wasn't quite the screen but the sounds I heard. Barely a whisper, I adjusted the volume and strained my ears to hear what exactly was being said.

"_Dolly? You there?"_

Dolly? That was what the supposed Ghost Boy called Avara.

He was communicating through the radio. Impressive.

"_Wake up. Trouble's only a hop, skip, and jump away and I suggest you get skedaddling now before I figure out how to slap myself despite HAVING NO PHYSICAL HANDS."_

Why…why was the voice familiar? I fiddled with the volume, trying to make it as crisp as possible.

The girl stirred, rolling across the floor into the glass. She moaned softly in pain. I sighed at the sight. I was about read to pressing a button and sending mutant Retrievers at her. But that voice….

Unconsciously, I knew exactly who it was. It was a name that was on the tip of my tongue but I could not grasp and it was only when I looked at my hand did I realize.

My fingers were drumming on the journal of Fiona C. Flycactus.

She was the brother of Ip Z. Flycactus.

_**Ember Blaze, Gamemaker Intern**_

My career was ruined. No ifs, ands, or buts. Henri would be so smug as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and announced that he was, for once, right. In my defense, he said I was never cut out to be a Gamemaker. I wasn't cut out, really, to listen to that loon who was supposedly the greatest thing that has ever happened to the Capitol.

Henri was out fighting for our country. Maybe not right now, but if the time came, he'd do it. He was like a Peacekeeper but of much higher caliber. The kind that protects the President and his people. I wanted to contribute towards it too. How did I do that?

By fetching hot chocolate.

Head Gamemaker PJ was not a person I'd soon forget and not exactly for the reasons you'd initially believe. Her face was clear of alterations, ears adorned with various metal piercings, and hair kept uncolored and shortened like that of a young boy's to her face. It displayed her straight eyebrows and overall wolfish look prominently. It matched her determined, snarky attitude perfectly and the smirk tied all the features together effortlessly.

One got used to PJ's mental abuse soon after becoming her intern. I only wished I could talk to someone who had gone through the process. And that was Drake. He, frankly, was not one to make company with.

I didn't need PJ to know that. I was smarter than I looked.

People gushed about how confident and intelligent Drake was and how brave he was to survive a boss like that of Head Gamemaker PJ. Brave, okay, you could give him that. Intelligent enough to know how to deal with her and live long enough to become Gamemaker. He had that too.

Drake, I assumed, was very good at playing a part. If you wanted to be a Gamemaker, you had to be a great actor. Boys and girls, forget stardom by being on your favorite sitcom. Try your hand at politics. The only difference was the laugh track.

I learned that fast. Drake did too. I just wasn't as good as keeping up with the act.

The whole story with PJ being mean to survive as a woman was bullshit. She said she was different; yes, she was. Not many Capitol citizens could make hunks of metal fly around. I was a girl and men and women alike did tend to stare. But I knew how to handle myself around them. Acting as the naïve intern got their attention but they moved on fast. It wasn't too true of an act. I could be a real ditz at times. Who wasn't?

But women being the future? Whoa, whoa, PJ had to hold her horses. She was nuts. She had lost all her marbles. She was out of her mind and was vacationing in her summer home in Crazy Town.

I wasn't all too surprised when I snapped. For a moment, relief flooded through me. All this was over. She'd stop preaching her words to me and would just fire me. Instead, though, she made me get her cocoa with a tone that said I'd regret everything. I feared for my dreams and only found their shattered remains, hopelessly broken piece by piece and stabbed back into my soul.

With all this in mind, I strode to the cafeteria to make PJ's chocolate. As it brewed, I played with the thought of spitting in the cup but pushed it to the side. It was childish and stupid and I would never stoop to such levels.

At least, I hoped I'd never go that low.

My hands shook and the hot chocolate gradually pouring from the machine ran over the sides, scalding my flesh. I shrieked in pain. Tears stung my eyes but not as viciously as the chocolate seeping through my shirt and burning my abdomen. Steam rose visibly into the air.

"The hot chocolate run is best not to be hurried, no matter what the Head Bitch says." A towel appeared in my hands and I dabbed it to the stain that I knew would take hours later to get out. I could stop at the dry cleaner's but when would I ever have time for that? Especially if I'm running errands for PJ….

I looked up to the person who had passed me the towel. "Thank you." I froze, looking into the wide brown eyes of Gamemaker Drake. Instinctively, I flinched away. I may not have believed _everything_ she said but there were a few exceptions.

"Internship is rough. PJ doesn't make it easy." Drake laid napkins on the floor in an attempt to clean it. He sighed raggedly, calling for Avoxes.

"I know what you mean," I rolled my eyes. "She…she's just so…."

"Crazy?"

I shrugged. "Something like that." I stepped to the side as the silent workers trundled up with mops. Drake guided me to the side. "The way she runs everything is so unorthodox. It could be so much better. The Games aren't exactly flat out amazing. It's like it's more about the actual freaks going in then the arena…."

"Heh," Drake laughed. "She knows a thing or two about freaks."

"Takes one to know one," I mumbled. Drake raised his eyebrows high enough where they almost were lost in his hairline. I bit down on my lip. "I should probably-"

"What do you mean by that?" he inquired. "It takes one to know one?"

I backed away. If I ratted out PJ, I would not only have my Gamemaker career crushed, I was pretty sure I'd be crushed. I was way too young and pretty to die!

"Oh, she's just, uh, you know, a freak. Weird, not in the norm. She insists on wearing those unflattering clothes and chews you out on stupid stuff and-"

"Can move metal objects with her mind?"

I stopped evading Drake. I finally met his gaze and the expression he wore showed he was dead serious. It was a look you couldn't fake. No one could muster up and forge the disgust and fear Drake wore. It wasn't a mask. It was the uneasy face he wore beneath one.

He must have recognized the expression on my own face. "She's a mutant freak," I whispered. "She's no better than those infidels from the Districts running around the arena."

Drake grasped my shoulders. His face actually appeared…relieved. "I've known for so long. No one believed me." His fingers dug into my thin shoulders and I amended not wearing my dress with the shoulder pads today. "But now someone does!"

"I wouldn't say I believe you. That suggests you had brought the idea to my attention. This I figured out on myself." I breathed outwards slowly.

"But this changes so much! We know how to tear her down." A crazed grin stretched the length of face. "We can take power; we could be the Head Gamemakers! We'll ruin her!" Drake squeezed me tight in his arms, lifting me up and spinning me around. I kicked limply at the air, not enjoying the feeling of not having stable ground beneath my feet. I pounded his back, demanding he put me down.

"Oh, this day," he said. "This day, Amber-"

"Ember," I corrected.

"-will go down in history. By the times these Games are over, there will be someone new in charge." His face was uncomfortably close. His breath tickled my cheek and it didn't exactly feel nice.

My skin stung where the hot chocolate had touched. A similar brown stain matching mine was pressed into Drake's purple robe, but he didn't look as if he cared. He instead rubbed his hands together, eyes shifting nervously about. I wouldn't doubt if PJ somehow heard our conversation through a teeny tiny microphone of the sorts. "I have a plan. All I need is some of your help."

Drake offered his hand out to me.

Was it worth risking everything? People could be put away for making accusations like this. They may have been true but it didn't necessarily mean it'd be taken as more than a rumor made up by some whiny interns she once had. Henri couldn't marry a jailbird! I don't look good in stripes!

But…what if it did work?

Before I knew it, my hand was enfolded in Drake's larger one.

**Thoughts, my pretties?**


	38. End of Day Three: Playing the Game

**Game plan; after this update, I will be going on break to do work for school. I still have to read the assigned book (thankfully, less than two hundred pages) and write a paper for it, plus "Journal Reactions" on another book. **

**Procrastinator? Me? Never! **

_**Chrys Gord, District 11**_

We were stunned into silence. What could we possibly say? We had slit the throat of what I guess was this girl's ally. Maybe it was one of the mannequin things? That theory was palpably idiotic as the cannon announced that, yes, this was indeed a tribute which you had killed. The blood splattered on my skin was good enough proof of this. You couldn't fake this warmth or stickiness. I spared a millisecond to imagine how the Gamemakers found a basis to compare it against. With years of having metaphorical blood on their hands, I doubted they'd want the real thing on them. Much too messy and barbaric for a Capitolite.

That's us. The barbaric District teens that'd kill fourteen year olds in their sleep.

No, the correct word is "who", not "that". That is used for anything that is not a person.

The girl from District Six, Lauryn, gaped at us. Her wide brown eyes swiveled rapidly about at the occupants in the room, including the dead one gradually leaking out on the cold tile floor, and stared in horror and utter fear. Her eyes shone as she calculated her odds of survival and the tears brimming over proved those chances were bleak. She scrabbled backwards, shrieking in pain as a shard of glass pierced her flesh. Lauryn plucked it out and threw it with all her might in our direction. It hit Zander's chest pathetically and he strode after the young girl. Lauryn's eyes locked on him, identifying Zander as the main concern in our trio. Zander's bloodied hands were trembling and the knife slipped free from his fingers. I scooped up the abandoned frying pan, unsure of what to do with it once I gripped it. The unarmed girl continued to back away until colliding heavily with a table and grunted aloud.

"P-Please!" she begged. "D-d-don't kill me!"

I bit my lip. Her words dug deep, sawing at my nerves. Neve hadn't moved. She remained frozen in her original location, what little color in her face fading to leave a chalk white complexion.

Lauryn climbed to her feet, wavered unsteadily there for a moment, and collapsed to her knees. Blood soaked the section of her clothes that had lain on the flood and the stain was outlined brown where it was drying. Zander, knife in his hand once more, advanced forward. Lauryn crawled backwards, beneath the table, shoving chairs aside in her panic. With a grunt, she bucked her long skinny legs and kicked the single pole giving support to the table. The piece of furniture flew downwards. Zander flinched, blindly sweeping the weapon through the air in a wide arc.

"Shit!" he cursed, pushing the table off his left foot. A ghost of smile met my lips as he hopped on his right leg while lamely attempting to nurse the other in a typical Zander fashion. He tripped and landed on his ass and I would have burst out laughing if the young tribute girl wasn't making a mad dash around the restaurant towards the exit. Neve, watching from the side, pointed in her direction and I split up to corner her. Literally, I split myself into three Chrysanthemums. One jumped over Zander and followed Lauryn's path down an aisle of booths. The next went a separate route to cut her off. I, the original, remained frozen in place.

There was definitely something about my doubles that were different than me. In theory, and even practice, I'd say, they were exact copies of me. They acted like me, contained my memories, and did whatever I wanted them to do. They were _me_. I didn't know their actions until I reformed with them and gained the small amount of experiences they had witnessed during our departure.

Yet, while I was unable to move, they could run right after the tribute girl. So, most possibly, these duplicates weren't exactly the same.

Lauryn skidded to a stop and grabbed a nearby chair to keep from slipping on the slick floor. Chrys One was running at her with arms extended. Lauryn spun on her heel but stiffened, seeing Chrys Two bringing up the rear. The young tribute snapped her head back and forth between the two, as if her eyes were deceiving her. She glanced over her shoulder at me and cursed beneath her breath as she realized my mutation.

Zander, recovering from his bruised toe, bounded over the tables that were but minor obstacles to him and his athletic body. His hands grew into elongated claws, I observed, and his skin became tougher and thicker.

As a final desperate attempt at escape, she crawled onto a table and stood, preparing to hop to the next. Chrys One reached her first.

My throat went dry. What was she, or better said I, going to do to her? Hold her down until Zander reached them and tore her throat out? Throw her to the floor herself?

And I just stood by gaping, trying to dry my sweaty palms on my skirt.

What happened next was worse than anything I could even imagine.

Chrys One snatched Lauryn's ankle. But upon touching her, the alternate me evaporated. Like that. Blink and you would have missed. She didn't have enough time to even scream. I wasn't even sure what I saw. But one moment, the person who looked exactly like me was standing there.

The next, she was gone, having just decayed into dust and blown away into the air.

I felt like I had been punched in the gut and my energy was cut in half instantaneously. I doubled over, resisting the urge to lie on the ground and fall asleep. My replica was definitely destroyed.

What was this girl capable of?

Zander stopped in place, taken off guard by this. Lauryn was equally as shocked. She didn't take notice of Chrys Two until she was inches away. The girl gasped and kicked at the duplicate. She, too, crumpled to dust. I leaned heavily on a chair, burning through my last ounces of energy. This was why I couldn't "spread myself too thin." It'd easily kill me.

"Neve?" I whispered. Black spots were dancing in my vision. I barely spoke above the storm brewing outside. "What is that girl's mutation?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. It was the last thing you'd ever want on the face of a District Three nerd; an expression of confusion.

"It was unknown," she said softly. "I vaguely remember her saying it was a mistake during…every possible moment she had to speak."

Lauryn stared down at her hands then up at us. She thrust her palms out like she was wielding a knife. "No one move!" Zander glanced over his shoulder at Neve and I. "I said to not move, pretty boy!"

Zander shrugged but his limbs were stiff. He didn't know what to expect. I mean, I didn't know what to expect. I looked sidelong at Neve. Her expression was impassable. Doesn't help me here.

"Hands where I can see them!" Lauryn shrieked. Neve responded immediately. I saw that in the table she stood beside, she had made an imprint of her hand in the surface. Her face was calm but she was as tense as the rest of us. She shot me a look and I quickly followed suit. Zander raised his palms up as well. The knife was tucked in his belt.

"You!" Lauryn shouted, directing her eyes at me. She peeked from the corner of her eyes to the dead tribute still lying there (since we have not cleared out for the body to be collected) on the floor. "Put down the pan." I looked to Neve for guidance. She raised her head a fraction of an inch upwards, then slowly and deliberately down again, giving a small, imperceptible nod. I pressed my lips together stubbornly. The obvious screamed for me to just do what she said. But another part wouldn't allow for me to be scared by a little girl.

Tentatively, I spoke. "And what will you do if I don't?" Zander's jaw tensed and he swiveled about to look at me.

"What are-?"

"Shut up!" Lauryn screeched. A nervous crack developed in her voice and she wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "I'll do what I did to them. Poof!" The last word came out more like a sob. She scowled hard, trying to regain some toughness.

"What exactly is it that you do?" Neve interjected.

The girl's jaw clenched. "How exactly will it help me if I told you?"

"I guess," Neve said, "it'd be imposed as a threat. Your mutation could mean numerous things to me. Off the top of my head, I'd think you'd have the ability to destroy matter. That'd be impossible since it'd be against the Conservation of Mass. This is the fact that matter can neither be destroyed nor created. Let's put this theory aside for the moment. Perhaps you can teleport yourself or other people and objects. It'd explain the sudden disappearance of the duplicates and we can assume they just popped up in some other section of the arena. Seeing as my ally here looks ready to pass out, it'd be wise to say that they are completely gone. So what if you absorb energy and make yourself stronger?"

Lauryn straightened her back and brought herself to full height. Neve's lips puckered. "Seeing as you just did that, you are still weak." Lauryn had dropped her hands to her sides and left them clenched up tight in fists. She looked less scared but more pissed now.

"Listen," she croaked. "I barely know who I am any more. I didn't even know I was a freak until…" Lauryn dropped off the end of the sentence "…until recently. The odds of me surviving are slim right now and that's being optimistic. I'm lucky I lived through the bloodbath. The District Four girl tried to get me to stab my own eye!" She laid her hand on her hip, thinking back to the memory. "No, I'm not going to just give up here. If I'm going down, hell, I'll go down fighting. I'm not just some little thirteen year old girl!" Lauryn bounded over the last two tables and dashed out the doors.

Zander chased after her.

"Wait!" Neve called after them. "Zander!" She followed the duo. I watched my allies go, frowning at the back of Neve's head. She now _wanted_ to take this girl out?

With no other option, and glancing one last time at the mysterious, nameless girl, I ran out into the rain.

_**Lauryn Rivera, District 6**_

So there I was, just waking up from some drug induced sleep filled with monstrous creatures that bear a resemblance to my sister, friends back home, and even tributes around the arena, when I watched this muscly dude slice Alix's (or whoever the hell that was) neck open and blood spewed out in every which way. All the strength in me deflated and I was hit hard by the fact that I was merely thirteen in an arena where almost everyone was older than me, the only exception being a psychotic Career. How would I know she's psychotic? No twelve year old who's right in the head would volunteer for this shit.

Anyway, not the best thing to wake up to. Doesn't help when they go after you next. Let's skip ahead where I was, let's see; oh, right, running for my life.

The moment I stepped beyond the threshold of the doors, I was assaulted by icy cold droplets. In seconds, I was soaked to my skin and shivering uncontrollably. Still, I sprinted as fast as my legs could manage. I splashed through puddles, sending a spray of water up and saturating my socks.

This was insane. This was…I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

I was a freak. True, my sister was one after all and so was one of my closest friends. But…how was I to know I was one? I was raised to accept what freaks were. But it's entirely different when you were the undesirable. There weren't exactly blaring signs of my mutation either. I wasn't completely sure how to define my mutation. I stopped other mutations. That made no sense at all.

Lightning lit up the darkening sky, dancing from one looming cloud to the next. A roll of thunder rumbled through the air and set my hair on end. My legs grew tired fast and I was breathless but I forced myself to push ahead. I wasn't entirely sure where I was going just as far away from those older tributes as I can.

Oh, look at that, I need to be more specific on what tributes I was describing because everyone in this stupid arena was older than me!

Over the rumble of thunder, I heard feet running in a rapid rhythm behind me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't be any faster. My legs were shorter and my stamina was shrinking. My hand flew to my waist, reached inside the small slit, and pulled out the knife tucked in there. Upon waking, I was so confused and stunned and dizzy that I didn't even remember the blade until later.

Like a freight train, a body barreled into me. Two strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me up into the air. I screamed at the top of my lungs like any intelligent little girl was taught when grabbed by a stranger.

This was the Mutant Games, sadly. When strangers grab you, the people watching start to cheer.

I squeezed the blade tight in my hand and wrapped my other hand around the closed fist. I stabbed his wrist, his arm, and whatever else I could. I managed to make the large District Five boy drop me but with my face smashed against the concrete, he stomped his foot into the small of my back and pinned me. Rain fell down in quick torrents, sending the world into a darkening mist. I watched the blood wash off my knife and drip down along the handle.

"Zander, keep her there!"

I drove my nails into the cracks of the sidewalk and hopelessly tried to wriggle away. Twisting my head, I watched my captor pull a knife from his belt. I kicked and punched the ground and bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

"Let me go!" I demanded desperately. "Please!" It didn't matter if I could stop mutations. Nothing could stop the blade flying towards my very vulnerable, exposed body parts.

The older boy's face was grave and with shaking hands, rose his blade up. My fists and feet ached and I screamed between my clenched teeth. The knife flew downwards and I closed my eyes, pressing my face to the ground, and hoped it'd go fast and painless.

"Zander!"

I waited. Well, I wanted something painless but I'd like to be certain I was dead. I peeked up and saw a knife pointing down at me. There was a bloodied hand attached to it and an even bloodier arm attached to that. But holding back that arm was two small hands.

"Neve, what are you doing?" Zander shouted.

The girl ignored him. "Put the knife down!" There was a long pause filled by thunder. "I said drop it!" Another one of those pauses came by but it was ended by an exasperated sigh. The heavy weight of metal thumped my shoulder. I gasped and flinched instinctively.

"She tried to kill me!" the boy stated indignantly. "Look at my arms!"

"Frankly, you tried to kill her several times in the past five minutes," she said.

"Neve, please don't make me explain this to you too. Not everyone is supposed to survive. You can't just stand by and flinch at every drop of blood you see. And, _frankly_ to _you_, I don't want an ally who'll try to stop me."

"Hear me out," she said. "For the sake of…science, will you let me talk to her. I just need to ask her something and…just go with it. Please." Wait a second…was this girl bartering to keep me alive? She…she was. Go random District…girl not from my district! Neve! That's her name!

I restrained the impulse to cheer for Neve. This was my life hanging by the thinnest of threads.

"Only because I'm shocked your voice could be so loud, Three," he said. Zander chuckled. Whoa. The bastard was _laughing_? He had the audacity to try to kill me and he just laughs afterwards like nothing ever happened? "Hey, Three, Neve…it makes Threve. I'm gonna start calling you that." The foot left my back but I stayed on the ground, watching him walk under the cover of a tree next to the tanned District Eleven girl. Her name was something like a flower but really long which slipped my mind. The gears in my head were too frozen to move. Hell, I wrapped my arms around my knees and laid in the fetal position.

"You have three minutes, Threve," he called.

Three minutes or what?

The other girl, closer to my size but still older by a decent margin of years, kneeled down beside me and sat me up. Her face was thin and her nose small. Her eyes were normal sized but compared to the rest of features, they seemed huge. Nevertheless, I wanted to hug this girl if not for my arms being frozen to my legs. Instead, I showed my gratitude by falling sideways onto her shoulder. She helped me up once again, hauling me over to a spot of grass that was slightly protected from rain, and ducked her head to meet my eye level.

"The District Four girl," she said. "She tried to have you stab yourself?"

"Yeah," I replied. "At least, it seemed that's what she was going for." She was wondering about this? What was going on in this chick's head? Considering she saved my life, I didn't think too deeply. Don't know, don't care. "She's that weird voodoo, mind controller chick." I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead and wiggled my fingers. It was my variation of the District Four girl's mutation.

"Not quite mind control…body control," Neve said. "You're aware of what you're doing and that you _shouldn't_ be doing it; you just have no control of it. But she couldn't do it on you. You stopped her?"

"Yeah. I spit in her eye. It really pissed her off." I sighed. "Look, it's more than that. It's so much more. Mutations and powers have no effect on me. I can stop them." She narrowed her eyes while processing this. The hamster in her head was running a mile a minute and I wondered momentarily what her mutation was. There were twenty six of us; I wasn't going to remember everyone. I was certain there were no mind readers….

"Wait," I said. Lightning lit up her face and the rumbling thunder caused us both to flinch. "Aren't you the chick who can blow shit up with her mind?"

"Yes," she stated simply. She rose to her feet and helped me to mine. "That's why Chrys's duplicates vanished?"

"Uh, I guess, if you're talking about," I pointed over my shoulder, "her."

Neve nodded. "Yes." She examined me closely, a little too close for comfort. A small smile formed on her lips and she patted my shoulder gently. "Lauryn, right?"

"Uh, yup." No shit, your name was Lauryn. I wanted to face palm myself for the fact that I hesitated. I made my best efforts to smile back. I bit my lip, shaking my head. "Why…why didn't you just let him kill me?"

Neve didn't skip a beat. "I've seen too much death today. Death I could have prevented. I thought…maybe I could just stop it once. Maybe I'll feel some fulfillment in me." She shrugged. "I've never been too good at playing games."

Impulsively, I dove in and hugged Neve. She stiffened but awkwardly hugged back, stroking the back of my neck.

Fingers drove into my neck. I was abruptly shoved to the side, thrust behind Neve as she acted as some pathetic shield.

"I told you to let her go. She's thirteen for god's sake," Neve said, steadily. "We've already killed someone already. We watched Leon die. Don't you think that's enough?"

"Neve," Zander said. His voice was frustrated but desperate. "Only one of us gets to live. One. Me, personally, I like living. I know you want to go home as much as I do. I have a family. I volunteered in my brother's place to protect him. I'd do anything to protect my brothers and my dad, any of the people I care about. This girl knows she's a goner. She must have known it the moment her name was reaped."

"So you're telling me," Neve said, the spite clearly evident in her tone, "that we'd be doing her a favor by killing her?"

He threw his hands up. "Basically." He gritted his teeth, seeming to amend that. "I'm just playing the game. Think logically. This is what they want us to do. They want us to play the Games. Do you think I'm enjoying this? I don't like killing, surprising or not. I hate this. I hate being here. But the only way for any of us to go home is to do this." His voice shook. "I'm sorry."

I glanced behind him to see how the Flower chick was taking this. And I saw she wasn't there.

I spun around but an arm enfolded me in a tight grip. Cold metal pressed to my neck but my skin was suddenly warm. I sucked in air and choked on my blood as my neck spewed. Blood was everywhere and I grabbed my throat, my fingers slipping through the flesh. I crumpled to the ground and saw the figure towering over me. Her face was hidden in the mist of the rain but her knife glistened with the raindrops. Lightning flashed across the sky and I instinctively screamed, only managing out a sickening gurgling sound.

Black dots appeared in my vision, clumping together until there was nothing left.

_**Foe Sterling, District 2**_

"How many deaths is that now?" Bree asked. She appeared from through the back door, Santiago close behind. They looked like classic kids next door types, sporty clothes, girly skirt, if not for the deadly weapons in their hands. By Bree's gruff tone of voice and tense features, none of the kills I've heard since their departure were caused by them. We were horrible Careers. We haven't gotten any kills since coming across that unconscious kid. We had to trip over him to find him.

We were supposed to be honorable and glorified killing machines.

"Five deaths total for the day," Lupe called. "Brings us to fifteen people dead and only four of them caused by you." His words weren't totally clear but we got the gist of it. At the current moment, he was gagged and bound to a chair. Santiago moved it to the center of the room (the house was designed where there was a large space where the different major rooms of the house, such as the kitchen, dining room, and living room, converged) to keep him in plain sight and I had been in charge of babysitting him for the past hour or so. He kept me busy with some card tricks that were pretty good, considering his hands were tied behind his back. Bree, in a fit of annoyance, ripped the fabric free to hear him clearly. "Oh, wait; make that six if you include my own contributions."

I sat before the television, watching the Capitol seal as the anthem played. The death toll was shown before (I nearly skewered the television when it randomly turned on). I anxiously gnawed on my nail as Bree and Santiago dried themselves off.

"Anyone significant?" Santiago asked.

I crossed my arms, turning to them. Both District Four tributes froze. "Balthizar," I stated.

Santiago's eyebrows shot up. Bree snorted derisively. "Any ideas how?" she asked.

"Hell if I know." I collapsed onto the sofa. Bree moved over to the fire place and began warming her hands. Santiago wrung his shirt out over the sink.

"Alice?"

"Still alive," I stated. "She must be on her own somewhere."

Santiago shook his head. After he nearly blew his casket earlier…there's been this unsettling edginess in the air. Extra looks have been exchanged and we've held our weapons closer to us. Everyone except Lupe. He's as…Lupe as ever.

"The boy from Three and Nine and girl from Six are gone too. Oh, and that girl from Ten who blows shit up."

"That may explain the explosions we saw," Santiago said. "The girl had no self-control whatsoever with her mutations." He grabbed a blanket I had left folded on the kitchen counter and draped it across his shoulders. He grabbed a snack pack, instantly tore it open, and began eating what was inside. Sandy ran his fingers through his hair, frowning in thought. What was going on in that pretty head of his?

"Hey guys, just wondering," Lupe said. He hopped around the chair to face us. "Why are you keeping me alive again?"

To help us get to Balthy and Alice Lynn, I thought. I sucked in a breath to say this but realized how stupid I'd sound. Balthy was dead and who knew what state of mind Alice was in right now. With Balthy not exactly there protecting her, we'd have to use different means of killing her.

"Why are we keeping him alive, Bree?" I asked. "Since it seemed to be your idea."

The girl twisted around to look at me. "You guys went along with it."

Sandy's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "The only reason you dragged him around was because you knew we were planning to kill you and thought it'd be a quick get out of death free card."

"Well, Sandy," Bree said amiably. "You're not as ignorant as you look." She squeezed water from her hair, tossing it back over her shoulder. "He's still plenty of use. He has more kills than you!"

That hit a nerve in Santiago in the way nerves are hit in Sandy that you don't actually know a nerve was struck but still do. Dammit, I'm starting to sound like Balthy. "I'd easily have as many kills if I didn't stop myself from slitting that pretty little throat of yours." He didn't say it in a threatening manner, more like it was everyday chitchat. He could've as easily said "Oh, and while you're out, can you get a gallon of milk?"

"Why thank you, Sandy," Bree said cheekily. "My neck is quite beautiful, if I do say so myself."

"Here we go again," I muttered. I leaned back on the couch, watching as Bree twirled the trident in her hands and Santiago edged closer and closer to pulling his sword from the scabbard. Bree had to verbally abuse everyone who just so happened to cross her path.

"We should just slit his throat now, Bree," Santiago was saying. Cool, calm, collected Sandy, better on his feet than the angry, intimidating one. "Honestly, I think me and Foe are over wanting to kill you. I've had plenty of opportunities to kill you and you've had opportunities to kill me."

"Sandy, I find him entertaining," Bree complained. "Can't we keep him a little longer?"

"I second that notion," Lupe murmured into my ear. I raised my eyebrows at him. He sat neatly with his back straight on the couch, offering me a warm mug. I took it and sipped at the contents.

…What the hell…?

As one would spit out the contents of their drink when something shocked them, I blew fire out.

I tensed, standing up to see his bindings were left lying about his chair. My head snapped back to the boy sitting beside me. He waved kindly, folding his heads in his lap.

"How'd you-?" Santiago said, distracted from his conversation/argument.

"Do what?" Lupe said. He looked to his chair. "Oh, right, this. Well, as I've told Foe, seeing as everyone is probably cranky and tired and moody, now is the time to keep things interesting."

"You said those knots were secure!" Bree accused Sandy. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Yes, they were. I'm from District Four! I can tie a sufficient knot."

Lupe shook his head, clearing his throat. I blinked, mystified. How'd he end up on the kitchen counter? You'd have to cross the room to get there! Yet, there he was, perched on the edge with his legs dangling off. "Can we please stop all the arguing? It's kind of killing my moment."

Bree leapt to her feet, wielding her trident. "We'll kill him as long as I get to do it."

"Let's decide that when I get my sword through him," Santiago hissed menacingly. He lost his good boy act and was now full blown killer.

Lupe snatched another folded blanket and stood up on the counter. He ducked his head to keep from slamming it against the ceiling. "Now, on the count of three, I will magically disappear!" He brought the sheet up over his head to cover him from top to bottom. "One, two-"

"Stop messing around, dumbass!" Bree shouted. She sprinted forward and stabbed through the blanket, overshooting and smashing into the counter as there was no body to stop her. The sheet fluttered to the ground, not a trace of red anywhere to mark where Lupe had stood.

I propped myself in a fighting position, shuffling around to find where the District Eleven tribute had gone. He waved from the couch, causing me to jerk back in shock. Lupe grinned devilishly, diving behind the sofa. I blew fire at the thing, blowing and burning until the whole thing was ablaze.

"Hey!" Sandy shouted. The boy was next to the fire place, watching the three of us while stroking his chin.

"This house is probably going to burn down now," he stated. "You should probably leave." He tossed his a card into the flames and the thing burst suddenly.

Smoke swirled about the room. Peeking through the haze, I saw that the tall, freckle faced boy was gone. Naturally breathing smoke better than most people, I blindly stumbled through the increasing smoke and found a wrist to grab onto. The strength that gripped back proved it was Santiago.

"We need to leave," he coughed from behind his shirt.

"You don't say," I snapped. Balling up his sleeve in my hand, I hauled him along, squinting in an effort to try to find the exit. The flames devoured the house at an unnatural speed, both from the fireplace and the couch. Santiago latched his hand onto my shoulder, keeping close to me.

Suddenly, he froze. I tried yanking him forward but he wouldn't budge at all. "What are you doing?" I shouted. He coughed and darted his eyes from side to side. His neck muscles tensed, like it was cramped in the same position.

"I can't move," he said. His eyes darkened over. "Bree!" He coughed more, unable to cover his mouth as his arm was frozen to his side.

Suddenly, Bree popped up beside me, jabbing me in the side with her trident. It was hard enough to break the skin but not lethal. She smirked at me.

"Found you guys!" she exclaimed. "Okay, let's not leave Sandy in the flames to die." With a flick of her wrist, Santiago squeezed my shoulder, able to move freely.

We fled the house, running out into the storm outside. The windows that were still intact gave out, shattering across the lawns. We sprinted a fair distance away and watched the rain dampen the fire as it climbed to the roof.

Bree threw her head back and let the rain pour down on her. Santiago watched the house burn, the light dancing in his eyes and throwing shadows across his face in strange ways.

I coughed. And coughed again. I couldn't breathe. I began gagging and doubled over. Whatever was stuck in my throat came up and I spat it into my hands.

Slowly, I unfolded the white little rectangle, one fold, two folds….

I gaped at the card in my hands. This…was…_inside_ me. How did the bastard manage that?

I glared at the joker. Then, I ripped it in half. Then ripped the halves in half. And ripped those halves, which I guess you'd consider quarters until there was nothing but little flecks of paper. I watched the papers flutter to the ground and, promptly, they were washed away by the rain.

**I may or may not have gotten that last trick from a TV show.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two <strong>–(Bree, Sandy)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three- <strong>(Zander, Chrys)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four <strong>–(Foe, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five<br>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -**(Chrys, Neve)**  
><strong>Lauryn Rivera, District Six_(Throat slit by Chrys)_**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Alix Estelle, District Nine_(Throat slit by Zander)_**  
><strong>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten _(Head bashed in by Alice Lynn's troll)_**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven <strong>–(Zander, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	39. Day Four: Walking the Line

**Sorry for such a big gap. I went to see how long it has been and blurted aloud "DEAR MOTHER OF GOD, IT'S BEEN A MONTH!" I know, just go eat me now.**

_**Neve Hadron, District 3**_

You never realize how fine the line between right and wrong is until you're walking it. How strange, that path is. It went from being this solid sidewalk to a fine tightrope you're forced to balance on a hundred feet up in the air. All my life, I thought it was pretty simple; if you do one specific action, it will result in a positive reaction. Act contrary of this, you'll receive an equal and opposite reaction. You act and the world reacts. It all seemed cut and paste, black and white. You're just walking the line and step on the side you seem fit. I saw most decisions as just stepping onto the next path.

How ignorant I was to believe such philosophies.

Because, sometimes, right and wrong can have different meanings. It can have different meanings to different people. Maybe the right action for yourself creates a reaction that inflicts horrible wrongs onto another. The unfavorable doing is the right one. Sometimes, there's this gray in-between area that melds the ending fabric of right and wrong together. You're walking this tightrope when, really, there is no line at all. And with no line…

You just fall into whatever is below to catch you. And you can only guess at what.

I was making no sense. If I were to explain myself to say Zander or Chrys, I'd just receive blank stares. They weren't stupid. Chrys would try to understand but Zander would lose patience and move on. He was not one to dawdle on the past. To get this far in the Games, I should not distrust their intellect. But I doubt they'd understand my mind in its current state. I barely understood it myself. I needed someone to talk to, to get this out, a Three mind who fathomed my way of thinking. And the only District Three person who could within such easy reach was dead.

I realized that there was no possible way for me to stop Leon's death. He was weak and I treated his wounds to the best of my abilities. A head-to-head battle against a girl who, by Zander's description, was downright ruthless? Leon couldn't run and he'd put up somewhat of a fight by all the defensive wounds up and down his arms. She may have been a skinny fourteen year old but she was armed and with an inner drive to survive. The possibility of death made people ruthless.

I sighed, thunder shaking the windows. It also gave people a false sense of courage. It made them think they could actually prevent possible death.

Actual death, now that's entirely a different story. When someone dies, everyone's perspectives changed. It did things to people in a way that even I couldn't fully comprehend.

The lights in the room flickered as a streak of lightning skirt past the window. Fearing a possible fire, I unplugged the lamps and whatever electronics happened to be in the room. The tasks were proven difficult with my hands, shaking as violently as they were. Plucking the lamp's wire from the socket, the room was cast into complete darkness and I was suddenly several degrees colder. Groping about, I found and curled up on the couch, laying a throw pillow across my lap, wrapping my arms around knees, and pressing my face to the pillow. The past day was a nightmare and I couldn't bear to close my eyes and relive it. Almost every time I closed my eyes, I'd witness another reminder of the past day. It wasn't a dead corpse leering at me with blank eyes but a knife glistening sharply with red droplets or grass soaked with blood. It was a cold hand that could no long hold mine or the sound of one last breath being drawn in through collapsing lungs. To me, there were things much more scarring than a dead corpse. At least you know it won't come and kill you.

The bedrooms were on the floor above but I volunteered to stay in the living room and keep an eye open for trouble. Chrys and Zander amply agreed and trudged upstairs. The tension between us was thickening with each moment of indecision and second of conflict. I no longer felt the need to put my opinion into one of Zander's musings or to say a word to my two allies. My time with them was shortening. Their loyalties to each other were stronger than any loyalties shared with me. What little allegiance I had for Zander was swatted away and Chrys was too close with Zander. I believe, in a different world, under different circumstances, Chrys and I could grow to be close friends. But we didn't live in that world. I promised myself, if they were not awake by morning's first light, whatever sign of it there may be in the clouded sky, I was going to gather my supplies and go my own way.

I closed my eyes, allowing the nightmares to creep up on me. I was brought back to the memory of Zander's vacant eyes staring at me, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Blood, I envisioned the blood and was brought back to the District Six girl's death. Lauryn's body fell heavily and she writhed spastically, twisting at odd angles as she failed to force air through her severed windpipe. Shocked, I stumbled forward. Zander grabbed my wrist to steady me and, with a heavy heart, accepted this defeat and relinquished all plans forming in my head. Chrys watched, her body visibly shaking. When the cannon fired, the girl dropped to her knees and instantly began sobbing. She tossed the knife to the side and cried into her hands.

Zander was staring hard at me, eyebrows raised. He was asking me to make my move. It was a look that said "_Where do you stand?"_

Argue and he would have ended my life there. Cry and I proved myself weak. It was as if we were sizing each other up, trying to calculate what the other would do next. I was shocked by this side of the District Five boy and silently scolded myself for judging him without further delving into his character. I couldn't help but think he's not so different from his district partner after all. I wanted to crack open his head and see the way it worked, to see what actually went on in there. There had to be something behind his charming face and endearing grin. What worried me more? The possibility of something dark inside him or not knowing if there was?

I had pulled my hand away, retaining eye contact with him. He nodded before pushing past me and kneeling beside Chrys. She turned into his shoulder continued sobbing, draping her arms about him. I remained still and felt guilt begin to overwhelm me.

I forced my eyes open again. Cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck from my hairline and a shiver cascaded past to the rest of my spine. My fingers were numb with cold. I squeezed the pillow again.

Unconsciously, I had begun mumbling beneath my breath. It felt like the inside of my head was laced with spider webs, the gears rusted over. I struggled to breathe outwards again as I recognized the tune I was singing.

"Purr, purr, purr," I finished, pressing my face to the pillow. Leon. He…I….

Feet thumped down the stairs and I tensed, preparing for action. However, a bolt of lightning outside shone enough light to illuminate Chrys's face. A blanket was drape about her shoulders and her hair was roughly tied up in a ponytail, unusual from her typical braid. She sat beside me and I could almost hear the chatter of her teeth. I allowed the silence to continue, keeping to myself.

Without a word, she stretched her arm outwards and took my hand. My heart leapt impulsively and I tensed at her touch, curling my fingers. My first instinct was to tear away but Chrys kept her steady hand where it was, not looking at me but instead staring directly ahead of her. Her hands radiated warmth but I still shivered, remembering the last hand I held was void of life.

Finally, my patience gave out. I yanked my hand away out of her slightly bulkier ones, sucking cold, humid air through my nostrils.

"Sorry," Chrys murmured hurriedly. "I-I-"

"If you two are planning to kill me," I said, unable to withhold the spite from my voice, "then at the very least have the decency to give me a head start."

"I don't want to kill you," Chrys said. She shook her head, more to herself then to me. "I…not so soon…."

I bit my lip, choking down the anger desiring to be purged from my body. The blood coursing through my veins heated, burning my neck, and I swore my flesh would bubble if I didn't formulate a way to calm myself. It was more than just anger. It was fear, and an increasing amount of pain. The coy comment slipped from my lips.

"So you're saying you'd still kill me regardless." No, I couldn't slip up like this. I realized a wrong choice of words can set one of us off in this precarious state.

"I don't know," Chrys hiccupped. "I don't know what I know anymore."

"I'm debating whether that statement was logical or not," I said. "But, at this point, I'm figuring it doesn't matter any longer." I sighed. "Nothing matters anymore."

The storm raged on outside, assaulting the roof like millions of tiny bullets. A cold breeze swept in through the shattered windows and it seeped through the warmth radiating off of me, chilling my bones. I watched my breath dance before me in a wispy cloud. I restrained the shiver creeping up into my jaw and Chrys offered the blanket from her shoulders. I waved it away.

"Did you care about Leon?" she said.

This question took my off guard. Still, I don't hesitate to respond with "Of course." Unlike most of the time, I don't mull my answer over. I knew I cared about Leon. He was a loyal friend. He was a good person.

"Did you know him before the Games?" Chrys asked. I nudged my hair behind my ears, crossing my arms tight around me. The emotions deflated slowly from me. I had no right to be angry for Leon. At least, I thought so.

"Not really," I said. "Never talked to him a day in my life beforehand. His mom is my teacher. Nice woman. I knew him but didn't, you know," I gestured broadly, "know him." Chrys nodded understandingly. She glanced back over her shoulder towards the stairs, where Zander must be up above.

She turned back to me. "You two became friends during the Games?"

"Yes. Not exactly close but we trusted each other."

Chrys shifted awkwardly and I observed what looks like a strange bruise on her wrist, just beginning to form. I shook the thought away. It wasn't vital.

She noticed me staring and quickly covered the mark. That was strange. "I'm sorry, Neve." Her eyes crinkled sympathetically. "I truly am sorry."

About Leon? About admitting to a plot to kill me? About killing Lauryn?

The corner of my mouth twitched. "I am too."

Chrys opened her mouth to speak again but a sudden banging sound carried through the air. We both sat straight up, startled, and I listened into what it was. I was prepared to wave it away as just the wind when there's a low groan. Chrys rose to her feet, facing towards the kitchen. I made to my feet too.

Chrys grabbed a table lamp and, with a nod between us, we tiptoed towards the direction of the sound. I barely heard the scuff of my feet along the carpet. I slid past my ally and peeked around the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. Easily, I discerned the dark-haired figure sprawled along the floor. The cabinets under the sink were open wide. The figure climbed to shaking feet and only made it to full height for a second before collapsing again. Chrys watched from beside me, fixated on the tribute. It was a girl.

Dark hair curtained her face and she jutted her head about to take in her surroundings. She looked off to the side, then over to us. Her eyes, peeking through the unkempt strands, were widened to the fullest extent.

She's been hiding in that cabinet the whole time, I thought. Right there, under our noses, out of the way.

"Run," she bellowed. We flinched backwards at her voice. It wasn't quite hers, more like a blend of several voices speaking in unison. "Leave now!"

I furrowed my brows confusedly. "What?"

She crawled along the floor, using a chair to support herself. "I said leave! Now! They're coming!"

"Who?" Chrys said dumbfounded. "Who are they?"

She stumbled forward unsteadily, like a child walking on its legs for the first time. The tribute girl's strength finally gave out. She fell, landing right in my arms. I struggled slightly to hold her up, but she was still light. Chrys's eyes widened and I shrugged awkwardly.

The girl limply supported herself against me. "Do you not hear me? You need to leave!"

"Who?" I demanded. "How do you know this?"

She whimpered under her breath. "He told me. They all told me." She tapped her temple. "They say they're getting closer, they're walking down the road. They wouldn't lie to me! They're helping me! Ghost Boy wouldn't be wrong!" I tried to process this all through my mind, but the words "Ghost Boy" stayed at the forefront.

My throat went dry. Wasn't there a tribute who could speak to the dead?

Outside, a light flashed. It wasn't lightning.

Chrys locked her gaze with mine. She looked deathly pale. Stiffly, she took the Twelve girl from my arms.

"Go get Zander," she instructed. "Meet us in the backyard."

"Wait!" the girl shouted. She pointed a crooked finger across the room. "The radio." Chrys opened her mouth to argue but she pounded a week fist against my ally's shoulder. "Just take the radio!"

I snatched it up and handed it over to the duo before finally making my way up the staircase to find Zander.

_**Santiago Aquitaine, District 4**_

I wanted to wring her neck out.

I have never desired for someone to die with such a passion inside me. I've fantasized about the killing, yes; what Career wouldn't? It was one of the things I've been anticipating most for the Games. You don't see Careers sitting around, spending all their time identifying poisonous berries. Although one would study it regardless, it was not our sole masterpiece. We were killers. There was no possible way to beat around the bush. We were here for the purpose to kill.

But Bree had something about her. Perhaps it was that damn smirk on her face or the fact she thought she could get away with all her idiotic stupid comments. She had the kind of attitude that made you want to punch her in the face. I've met the gentlemen of the world (oh, trust me, I am amongst them) who would never hit a girl. But we were beyond formal matters at this point. She wasn't just a "girl" to me. She was competition. She was that hurdle that needed to be kicked aside for me to make it across the finish tape. My brother won with his pure strength. Me? I don't have that strength. I need to rely on brain power too.

So yes, I wanted to wring out Bree's neck. Because, if it weren't for her, I'd have killed that damn District Eleven dumbass yesterday.

To top all this, she willed me to stay inside a burning building to ensure she could safely catch up. When it comes to Mutant Games and burning shit, it's every man for himself. I'd have happily left a comrade like her behind.

Bree collapsed onto the blacktop, heaving in gulps of air and choking on the heavy rainfall pouring from above. I placed my hands atop my head and took deep breathes as well. The blood began flowing with oxygen once more and my head no longer swam. Foe remained still, watching as the rain quickly extinguished the flames that erupted from inside the home. A thin layer of smoke covered the inside of my lungs and I cough in an attempt the clear my throat.

"I did not see that one coming," she said. Her voice was terse. From her hands, torn pieces of paper fluttered away, morphing quickly to mud. "Not at all."

I tensed my fist, conveniently wrapped around my sword. He made me look like a damn fool! Bree made me look like a fool. No one makes me look stupid.

My sword was partially drawn when I find the sense to slide it back into place. Not now.

"Which means he's done his part," I said. I was soaked to my skin and I missed the warmth provided from the fire. Foe blew a smoky ball of flames near her hands. It wasn't bright, battered by the rain.

"Well," Bree said. "That plan went horribly wrong." She had risen to her feet again and was lazily twirling her trident back and forth in big arcs. I snapped. I grabbed at my sword but couldn't bring myself to raise it from the scabbard. Literally, I could not. An invisible force kept me frozen in place, unable to move.

I relaxed and broke away from Bree's hold. She was cocky. But she caught me when I was weak. We were at a stalemate.

Bree smirked and a silent message passed between us. The audience must be both anxious and loving this.

Foe glanced between the two of us. She coughed once and fire burned brightly in the night before the rain ate away at it. "I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood to kill some weaklings instead of getting bruised up killing each other." She cracked her knuckles. "Especially pointy-faced losers who wear cheesy magician hats."

Foe paused, waiting for us to disagree. We didn't.

"Now," she said. "Who's up first?"

A low growl in the night answered our question. A small drop in my stomach took me by surprise, but I knew why; the sound was familiar. My hand took to Cabel's collar on my wrist. I could still remember his massive black body rubbing up against me with his tail swatting my hand. Not spot on to the original. But close enough.

We spun around to face the creature. My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and I recognized the vague outline of a small pack of dogs. Knowing our luck, it wouldn't be just any dogs. Why would the Gamemakers be so unloving and give us easy targets?

The lead barked and it treaded across the terrain. In one sweep, I withdrew my sword and swung it in a smooth uppercut. The blade sliced the creature from under its jaw, cutting the fleshy part of its throat to the brain. It released a short yelp. I could feel it kicking the air as it was skewered with my sword but it was uncontrolled, more of a twitch than an attempt to escape. Flicking my wrist to the side, the beast slid off, flying into the night. It uttered coarse wails, unable to draw a complete breath.

My blood pumped hard, coursing the adrenaline through my veins. The cold air met my heated skin and I swore steam radiated off the surface. Oh, I haven't felt this great in a while.

More feet came barreling after me. I slashed away, closing my eyes and relying solely on my ears. My sword acted expertly, slicing through the flesh and fur with ease. I grandly swipe from side to side, making each move a little bigger than it should be. Two more creatures fall away.

Another dog barked off to my left and I brushed my sword at the sound. At first, it struck nothing, but I dove forward with a jab. It skimmed the dog's shoulder. The dog surged forward, disregarding the cut, following the length of the blade and driving through to my body. I fell backwards, grunted while hitting the ground, and struggled to wrestle the creature's vicious teeth from my exposed neck. I bucked my lower half and managed to throw the beast over my head.

The dog howled in pain, erupting in flames.

Bree hooted gleefully. She moved into the light of the burning mutt. Shadows were cast across her face and I saw the unstableness it was warped into. Her smile appeared wider, crazier, and twisted inhumanly and her eyes stared thirstily for more blood. She sank her trident into the creature, giving it a twist before yanking it out once again.

I was able to view the body as a whole now. Other than the size, it looked nothing like my big black dog at home. These were long-haired and a fine blonde color. Cabel was a lot bulkier in the shoulders and back legs too.

We stand, poised and prepared for the next attack. Finally, concluding we had killed all of them, we rested.

I laid my hand to my collar and felt something wet and warm. The dog managed to get a few scratches, I observed.

More fire was blown onto the carcass. Foe poked it with her blade, grabbing the foot and dragging it towards the cover of a tree. We followed behind.

"How many did you get?" Bree asked. I debated adding a few to my total but push the thought aside. That would be pathetic.

"At least three," I said. Even in utter darkness, I sensed the smirk crossing her face.

"Oh, four for me," she cooed. "Not a scratch on me either."

I snorted. I doubted that.

Meanwhile, Foe created a small shelter using tree branches. The one we stood under was especially thick and it provided enough coverage. Soon, she got a small fire going using the charred mutt. She was too focused to spare any attention on us. Bree didn't quite see this.

"Oh, and how many was that for you, Foe? Two?" Bree sat crisscross before the flames. The light showed the smirk on her face. "Wait, no, one and helping barbeque another."

Foe ignored her. Bree pouted, not getting the reaction she wanted.

"That still didn't get us anywhere," I stated. "There are eleven of us left."

"Who do we go after first?" Bree asked.

"Who's left?" Foe spoke up. She used a knife to cut away the leg of the dog and dipped the appendage into flames eating away at the body. "We need to know who there is to know who to go after."

I started off with holding up three fingers. "Us, obviously. Magic boy and I am pretty sure his district partner. Alice Lynn. That big fellow from District Five. That's seven."

"District Twelve," Foe added. Her hand went to the fading burn on her chest and she glared momentarily at the leg in her hand. She took a bite, chewing slowly to savor it.

"I don't remember seeing any Twelver in the sky," I continued. "So the girl is alive too."

"That skinny fourteen year old from District Five," Bree said casually. "Brandy or Brianna or some Br- name like that. Didn't expect a chick like that to survive so long?" She picked dirt from under her fingernail with her trident. I grimaced. You'd be surprised how far an idiot with a weapon can get. "Ten. Who's the eleventh?"

"That would be the girl from Three. She's allied with Zander, the 'big fellow from District Five' and Chrysanthemum from District Eleven." We all froze. That wasn't a voice I knew.

"Foe," Bree said slowly. "You're fucking with us right now, right?"

The District Two girl mumbled through a mouthful of dog meat, "No."

We peered upwards. Vaguely, I made out a shadow hidden amongst the darkness. I was only aware of it now that I knew it was there. She blew out and I was momentarily blinded by the sand of the playground that gritted the rims. Through a blur, I watched Foe blow angrily skywards. The girl leapt from the tree and began sprinting away. Scooping up our weapons and a torched piece of wood in Foe's hand, we sprinted after the figure.

She was fast, sure. But I was taller, stronger, and trained. I had nothing in my hands either to weigh me down and I pulled ahead of my two allies. I snatched at the darkness and grabbed hold of a ponytail. The girl screamed and out of nowhere, I was struck by a jagged, sharp-edged object. It dug between my digs, taking my breath away for a second. It left me dazed long enough for the person to yank herself away and continue running.

Lights illuminated the dark street. I realized it was an active car parked in the center of the road. The girl crawled inside and began to drive off. I paused, finally placing my sword in the scabbard and chasing the car. Foe and Bree caught up, breathing heavily.

"You'd think she would have gunned it," Foe said. "Those things can go five times faster."

I don't mull this over too long. We turned the corner, continuing this ridiculous chase.

The car honked and suddenly skidded to a halt at the end of the street. It just sat there, honking and flashing its lights. We were nearly in arm's reach when the driver floored it. The wheels squealed, unable to find traction for a second. Bree stabbed the rearview light before it finally raced away, full speed.

We breathed hard. What was that about? All I need was another Lupe to deal with who wanted to spice the Games up.

Frustrated, I grabbed the torch from Foe's hands and threw it at the nearest house. What I heard next was probably the sweetest sound I've heard in a long time.

From inside the house came a scream.

_**Zander De La Fuente, District 5**_

"What is it, Chrys?" I said, sitting up in the bed and grabbing the lamp beside me. You couldn't blame me for being a little bitter. Getting past the fact I killed someone today, I tried to kiss the girl and what do I get? A slap across the face and a shrill "Don't touch me!" Strangely enough, that hadn't been the first time I've been slapped by a girl. Mind you, it wasn't like I have a long line of them coming to hit me every other day.

Smacking the device, the flickering bulb of the lamp became bright enough to see the person. The furrow in my brow slackened and I parted my lips, as they were pressed together into a line. "Oh. Neve." The small girl had stridden right inside without bothering to knock. I felt a spark of annoyance but shrugged it off. Neve wouldn't pop in for a casual conversation. We were past that, sadly enough. By her grave expression, something was going on. And not the good kind of something.

I hopped out of the bed, yanking my shirt back on. It laid on the edge of the bed in my attempt to get dry it out. "What's wrong?"

Neve pointed behind her. "We need to leave."

I repeated my question, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, only continuing to point behind her. "I told you. We need to leave. Now." Well, couldn't question that logic. I swung a pack onto my shoulders.

Suddenly, from downstairs, I heard a screech, shocked and scared. My blood ran cold. "Chrys!" I shouted. I shoved past Neve, thumping down the steps to the living room. Despite all our fighting and tension, I couldn't suppress the loyalty formed between us. The girl knew how to frustrate me. I would have killed Neve if she hadn't persuaded me not to. I thought back to our short conversation prior to the District Six girl's death.

"We can't let her in," I had whispered tersely. "We can't ally another person. Someone needs to actually die."

Neve was so Three. I figured; let the girl get whatever information she wanted for data and whatever. I personally thought personal experiences could teach a hell of a lot more than just hearing it from someone else. It was probably why I wasn't so studious when it came to History class.

Chrys grasped my forearm, biting her lip nervously. She had gnawed on it so much that the skin was now peeling away. "Neve wouldn't just slit her throat in her sleep."

"We can't let her get that far, Chrys," I said. "Just get it over with, like that girl inside." Chrys's hold on me weakened. I was losing her. "Listen to me. In the end, if one of us survives, wouldn't it be worth it? That's the point; for twenty-five kids to die while only one lived. If one of us three actually get to go home, well, wouldn't you say we did what we had to? The end justifies the means and whatnot?"

I turned my head to look at Chrys. She had walked away.

Lauryn leapt up and hugged Neve and I couldn't take it anymore. That's when I acted.

And Chrys did too.

I push away the memory as I stepped into the living room. My eyes grew wide at the flames eating away at the carpet. Chrys stomped at it uselessly, carrying a strange girl in her arms. I shook my head. Where did she come from? This new girl looked like a sudden wind could blow her away.

"They're here!" she shouted. "They are here!"

"You don't say?" I snarled back. Neve bumped into my back, stabling herself then walking around me. She stared out the window and her eyes grew wide.

"Careers," Chrys whispered. Her voice was frail. That one word sent a shiver down my spine. It was as if saying the word would too loudly would make it true.

Outside, three figures stood, watching.

Neve clenched her jaw. She shoved me forward, her efforts humorously meek if in different circumstances. She pointed to the new chick.

"Grab her and get out the back door," she commanded. "Go!" Snapping out of my state, I followed the instructions. Chrys kept her head bowed as she passed the tribute to me and only glimpsed up at me when the person was completely in my arms. The blush was still on her face and it deepened as we made eye contact. I gave a half-hearted wink.

So maybe "kiss" her wasn't all I was trying to accomplish. And I probably did deserve that slap. Girls could make a guy do stupid things.

One of the figures cheered with delight as they all barreled forward. The girl in my arms, limp like a ragdoll, suddenly pushed herself up. The blues of her eyes, reflecting the flames up to this point, filled with blood and her mouth fell ajar. Horrible, horrible screams poured out; incomparable to any frequency or human sound I've ever heard. It was high-pitched moan, like the howl of the wind or the groan of old tree branches that bend from its attack.

A cannon fired but I was certain it was somewhere far from this spot. Someone far away was dead, having faced the last scenes of their life as their life was torn away from their body.

How could anyone be facing a situation even more hellish than this one?

**I'd say "drumroll, please" but I've heard so many in the past several weeks I'm prepared to impale myself with a drumstick to make it stop.**

**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two<strong>–(Bree, Sandy)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three-<strong>(Zander, Chrys)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four<strong>–(Foe, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four<strong>–(Foe, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five<br>Zander De La Fuente, District Five -**(Chrys, Neve)**  
><strong>Lauryn Rivera, District Six_(Throat slit by Chrys)_**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Alix Estelle, District Nine_(Throat slit by Zander)_**  
><strong>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten _(Head bashed in by Alice Lynn's troll)_**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven<strong>–(Zander, Neve)**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


	40. Day Four: Dumb Bunny

**And we're back! For now. I need to bunker down and write. This will be my NaNo project (she said hopefully).**

**Hope everyone on the East Coast of the US is alright. Hurricane Sandy, that bitch was on a hunt for Dirty Dan.**

_**Alice Lynn Wonderland, District 1**_

"Oh, such pretty lights," I cooed. I was awfully cold but thankfully my rabbit friend had found me an umbrella to keep me dry. With the gusty wind, I imagined being swept up and flown across the arena. The musing made me smile and I swung my feet casually. This playground was so much fun. My mom would get _so_ mad at me for staying up so late. I couldn't even see the moon! I didn't have any of my toys, though, and no bedtime tea whatsoever. Hopping off the swing, which only hung on by the rustiest of chains and flimsiest of supports, I looked towards the houses. My bunny hopped into view.

"Miss?" he said hesitantly. He started popping in much more often after Balthy went boom. Balthy was a good friend up to that point. I sort of missed him. A little. Kind of. I swear, though, there were Balthy bits everywhere! They got on my dress and it was so gross but it was also neat looking, like confetti on my birthday. Took forever to clean out. I nearly puked. Yuck. Thank goodness I just made the ogres do it. They don't puke at the sight of Balthy bits. It looked a lot like their boogies. Ogre boogies were equally as nasty. Balthy bits were, at any rate, not encased in slime.

Rabbit hopped over to my feet. He raised his golden chain, the small clock at the end gyrating and twirling. I squinted, unable to see the face as it refused to remain still and the darkness hid the numbers and little tick marks.

"It is late, Miss Alice Lynn," he said. His voice was sour.

"I know that, silly head." I cracked a smile and lifted him up, plopping the fluffy white creature onto my lap. "The sun isn't out. Mommy isn't here to tell me to go to sleep. Not Tara, not Tori, not Mick, not nobody!"

"That last phrase," Rabbit said nervously. "That's a bit contradictory because if it's not nobody, then it is somebody…."

I rolled my eyes, his words boring me. "Blah, blah, blah. Point is I'm all by myself!" I squeezed Rabbit in my arms. "It's spooky. And cold. Why is it so cold?"

Rabbit sighed. "I'd explain," he said, "but you'd get distracted and not listen to a word I said."

I pursed my lips. "Well, what does that mean? I so do pay attention!"

"Never said you didn't, Miss," he said hurriedly. "Just thought you'd find no interest in my explanation." Suddenly, his ears perked up. "Did you hear that, Miss?"

"Huh, what?" I replied. The finely dressed bunny smacked his face with his neat little claws but he jolted in surprise. His big bunny eyes gazed out across the rainy landscape and his nose twitched irritably. A shiver visibly traveled the length of his spine. He snatched my wrist and gave it a tug.

"Ouch!" I squeaked. "Don't be some rough, you dumb bunny!" Rabbit stared nervously off into the night. His eyes had never been so big before.

"There are creatures out there, Miss," he explained. His bunny nose twitched. "Mean ones. They don't smell too friendly." I rolled my eyes. Raising my eyes toward the sky to see the rain fall for a second, I swished my dress, so tattered and dirty, and placed my clenched fists boldly on my hips. Rabbit's mouth gaped and he gestured in his jittery matter.

"We need to run!" he said. "We do not have enough time! They will be advancing on us!"

I laughed disdainfully. "Silly rabbit, there is not one creature who would ever try to harm me! Everyone loves me!" I reiterated this point by smiling sweetly to show off my deep set dimples. It was true, animals do love me. And if someone was a little funny in the head and had this presumption that they shouldn't like me, well, then, my friends quickly proved them wrong or put them in their place. It was all quite simple. What reason would someone want to dislike me in the first place?

This didn't comfort Rabbit. "We must _leave_! _Now_!"

I stomped my foot. "Nuh-uh!"

The little bunny scrunched up his face, all mad like. It looked quite funny. "Alice Lynn Wonderland!" He didn't have the nice tone he typically had. "I am leaving! If you choose not to follow then it is your fault for being devoured by malevolent creatures wandering the area!" With one last thump of his bunny feet, he brazenly turned away. He didn't cast me a fleeting look or anything.

Deep in my tummy, the most terrible churning feeling began. My eyes stung and soon, tears were trailing down my face in torrents. My shoulders shook and my fists balled up so tight that they hurt. I plopped onto my knees and with all the anger built up in me for the stupid bunny-that's right, I called him _stupid_-I screamed out angrily. The sound carried through the night and continued on and on. My friends popped up all around me and began howling along with me. My throat began to hurt. I breathed in again, preparing to scream twice as loud.

A barreling body charged from my…um…I write with my right hand…from my right and plowed me to the ground. I screamed, but it wasn't an angry scream. It was a scared scream, and gosh, was I scared. I kicked and punched but the hairy thing atop of me was heavy. I nailed him in the nose, this wet snotty thing that got boogies on my hand, and lodged my foot in his squishy belly. The monster released an angry bark. It wasn't like any bark I've ever heard.

Drool dripped from the creature's jaws and knew it was definitely not one of mine. I screamed again. The weight of the thing suddenly flew off me and landed on the grass. Cinderella, coming to my rescue, raised her glass slipper threateningly and brought down on the monster. It looked like a dog, one of those nice ones with blonde hair and a lolling tongue. He wasn't so nice. The dog nipped at Cinderella's arms and growled viciously. I rose to my feet and watched on, horrified. Another monster dog attacked Cinderella from behind, taking the fair princess down. Pointing my finger, I sent a swarm of hummingbirds after them. The appeared from the raindrops splattering the ground, morphing from seemingly thin air. They flitted past me and moved as one cohesive unit.

A troll jumped into view and used his body to shield me from another mutt. The dog tore into his neck, jerking his head from side to side with the troll in his jowls. My friend dissolved into sludge, like wet clay, and I gasped in shock. This monster had killed my friend! What did he ever do to him?

The dog's haunches rose up and it growled, low and rumbly. I backed away slowly. A thump formed in my throat and my feet felt like jelly.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as another one barked behind me. I spun around and the sight I saw made me queasy. Yet another mutt was flanking me. Dangling from the dog's teeth was Rabbit. His golden watch hung limply in his hand and gray sludge material bled from the puncture wounds in Rabbit's body. I couldn't muster up enough bravado to scream.

The first dog rammed me in the behind, knocking me to the ground. I flailed and beat the grass, slamming my fists into the mud. The monster pinned me. I was trapped. I couldn't break free. Why weren't my friends _helping_ me? They needed to help me! If it wasn't for me, no one would take care of them! Why wasn't anyone taking care of me now?

The dog holding Rabbit spit him out. The bunny disappeared completely as he became a pile of goo. All that remained was his golden watch. I continued kicking at the dog approached. I flailed uselessly. Someone should help me. Anyone, please, help me. I used a pretty word. Please, just help me.

"Please," I whispered. The dog grinned wolfishly at me. My heart fluttered faster than a hummingbird's and I squeezed my eyes shut. The beast pounced. I felt pain and then nothing. Nothing at all.

_**Brandy Harris, District 5**_

I wasn't a _bad_ person. I just kept telling myself that. I may be a bitch. I may be a little self-centered. But I wasn't a bad person.

Bad people do bad things with bad intentions. I did bad things with good intentions. They're good for me, at least. I don't know any of these people. They don't know me. They've never done me a favor or saved my life. Why should I be kind or sparing of people who only want to kill me?

The car creaked and I came to a stop on the curb. Panting, I laid my head back. That was possibly the stupidest thing I've done thus far. Run into a pack of Careers and play tag with them? If the car wasn't in my possession or the metal thing decided to crap out on me at that moment, I would have been dead. With a jolt, I heard a cannon sound. It took me by surprise so much that I bang into the steering wheel and honk the horn. I tighten my grip on the wheel and lay my head back. I puff up my cheeks and release the air slowly. Don't get caught up in all this shit, I chastised myself. Keep your head in the game. Don't let the Games get to you. I had to keep reminding myself all this stupid shit if I didn't want to let myself go crazy.

I gripped the wheel harder. Okay, thinking time, Brandy.

It'd be passable to think it was either one of the Career trio or Zander's trio. A confrontation with one of them worried me to no end. No, worried was too light a term. I was scared, flat-out scared. I felt no shame to admit it. The Careers, for obvious reasons. There's something unsettling about a pack of teenagers who find glory in killing people. It's worse when they simply enjoy killing them. Think of wars. Why do we have wars? For gain. People don't have wars because they enjoy cutting off heads, for the most part. The original war of the Dark Days, for instance, was over the uprising of the districts. The districts wanted to gain freedom. The Capitol wanted to continue with their oppression. This happens, that happens; now we have war.

So, ranting aside, the Careers were screwy individuals who were best to avoid. Meanwhile, Zander…I was certain the guy hated me. I pressed his buttons too many times, which wasn't a smooth move on my part. He's smarter than I realized. The District Eleven chick seems pretty invested in him…and oh yeah, I killed District Three's partner. Who knows if she's a spiteful person? A thirst for vengeance does strange things to people.

Reconnaissance was a major tool of the trade for me in the arena. I was dead meat in a head to head battle. I could morph my appearance, but if I were to transform into a muscular dude, I wouldn't entirely develop the strength he holds. It's like morphing into a District Three person and expecting to have all their wit and knowledge. I couldn't create from nothing. I had to let the others pick away at each other and then swoop in fast and quick when the competition was weak.

This brings me back to my original thoughts. A head to head battle, between these two groups, I'd say…hmm, this was a tough one. Both groups were strong. But if I were to choose who I think would die first, I'd go with the District Eleven girl. Her duplicated sapped up most of her energy and the Careers would only have to cut down two or three of her for the girl to be useless. The District Three girl, Neve, she was small but she was tough and I couldn't be too sure of how she could use her mutation. Zander was strong. He could hold his own in a fight.

So, I was nearly certain Zander's little girlfriend was dead. But I held some doubt. Just a smidge. Never be too certain. Question everything.

I drummed the steering wheel with my fingers.

I was alone, here. Annabelle was only ever dragging me down. I don't even have the _luxury_ of having voices in my head to talk to. But talking to you, fourth wall, was equally enjoyable! You're just great listeners, despite probably hating me. Ha, _probably_, I crack myself up.

Dammit, Brandy, you're losing it.

I pressed the gas and slowly cruise along the road. One of the little gauges, which I'm positive measured the amount of gas left, teetered about one fourth full, if F really did mean filled and E was…empty. I think.

I wasn't a bad person. I was a…neutral person looking out for herself. Independent district girl who needs no allies to live. All I ever depended on was myself. I just needed to push further. Home was nine people away and I never have I wanted to see District Five as badly as I do now. I could see my brother's mocking face smirking at me already as I arrived on the train.

"_I would have done it with a little more style myself,_" he'd say. "_But the car was a nice touch."_

I honked the horn, driving my hand into the leather. It broke me from my musings, exactly what I hoped. I couldn't be too hopeful. Nine people were still a hell of a lot.

Another cannon fired.

I cracked my knuckles nervously and continued driving.

_**Avara Zenia, District 12**_

I clamped my jaw shut, all energy wiped out of me as I hit the floor with a thud. A really hard thud that came from where my head hit. I groaned in pain and rolled off to the side as the other tributes leapt over me. Ow. Too many voices all at once. And the guy had to drop me as soon as I went into a state. I muttered several Ghost Boy-like curses at that. I cradled the radio in my arms and propped it up. Several voices spoke all at once but I was able to center in on one scathing monotone.

_Told you. You should have run earlier._

I tightened my fists. He infuriated me to no end sometimes.

Shut up, I thought stubbornly

_I'd love to say 'Oh hey, I was right' but seeing that you may die in the next two minutes, and dying is probably the last thing you hope to happen, I'm just going to shut up and make you happy._

"You better," I muttered. His laugh echoed in my head and I couldn't help but smile.

The boy who had been holding me, Zander, willed his arms to become tentacle whips. He snapped them at the Careers who barged in through the main window. Two hands wrapped around my mouth and waist and pulled me back into the kitchen. I gasped but went willingly, watching the scene before me unfold until passing behind the wall of the kitchen. The hands vanished and, looking behind me, I couldn't find the body they were attached to. I found Ghost Boy leaning back against the wall, where he got a full view of the action. He winked, but there was an expression full of purpose in his face. He faded backwards through the wall.

It was slowly becoming harder to breathe as smoke filled the room. I peeked around into the living room. The District Four girl leapt up into the living room, landing firmly on her two feet. The girl waved hello with her trident before jabbing viciously at the petite District Three girl. Neve, I think her name was, threw her arms up impulsively and managed to snatch onto the prongs. They bent willingly in Neve's grip. This shocked the hell out of the Career as she jerked the weapon back and stumbled into her district partner who had jumped in beside her. She coughed heavily into the crook of her elbow, her knuckles white from gripping her trident so hard.

She examined the end and snarled angrily, "You fucked up my trident, you bitch!"

Zander brought his arm around and snapped it across the girl's face. It sliced open a cut on her cheek and blood dripped down to her chin. She bared her teeth and made a swipe at Zander. He jumped backwards, nearly stepping into the burning section of the carpet. The District Eleven girl continued stomping away at the flames, to no avail. I cradled my radio in my arms.

The District Four girl made a swing at Neve, brandishing her trident like a club. Neve ducked under it and latched onto the handle. The two wrestled the weapon, jerking each other about in a circle. The Career laughed and shoved as hard as she could. Neve was slammed backwards into the wall and slid to the floor, still holding on. The Career thrust it upwards and Neve, being so light, was propelled into the air. She kicked at the blonde girl, landing a shot that made her nose gush.

Meanwhile, the boy Career was battling a red faced Zander. The two moved in a strange dance, tentacle and sword with the fire setting the stage in morbid light. The Career swung and chopped off the tip of Zander's tentacle. He shrunk back to his normal arm and gaped at his missing fingers. They bled, not too heavily. But he was missing fingers. He shouted in pain.

The girl from District Eleven jumped in-several of her actually jumped in-and shoved the District Four boy backwards. He was strong, but couldn't beat four other tributes at once. The sword flashed menacingly and I thought I saw blood but it was perhaps a mere trick of the light. He stumbled into the window and fell outwards onto the grass. The Eleven girl gathered back into one person and went to nurse Zander's wounds.

"Thanks, Chrys," he whispered softly. _That's_ her name.

_She's on the roof._

I blinked. She's on the roof? Who was on the roof? I coughed again, the smoke filling my lungs.

_Oh my fucking god, just shout 'She's on the roof!'_

I tried but too much smoke was in the air and I was already down on my lowest levels. Weakly, I crawled along the floor to the back door. There was a tug at the back of my collar.

_Don't just crawl away, plug in the radio. Go plug in the radio and crank it up. Go! Don't make me…you know what, I am, move the hell out of the way._

With those words, the patter of the rain, the smoke, all the voices, they just disappeared. Everything disappeared. I was trapped and I feared for a long moment that this was it; I was dead. This was death. I breathed outwards. Well, at least it was painless. But how could I have died? Death was never that painless. Was it?

_No, sadly it isn't._

I opened my eyes and find my body several feet away from where it was previously. I leaned heavily onto the countertop and listen to Ghost Boy's voice shout, "The Career is on the roof and she's going to watch it burn. I suggest everyone runs now." He continued on shouting like this and I finally realized what he did. My face burned red with anger.

"What the hell?" I said hoarsely. "Did you just possess me?"

"No time for that," he announced on the radio. "Dear all non-Careers in the area, please get the fuck out of the building."

He did. He totally did.

I collapsed to the floor, gagging violently. Through blurry eyes, I watched part of what was going on in the living room. Zander was on the ground, coughing. Chrys had her nose hidden beneath her sweater. Her head was bowed but despite all struggling, she couldn't move, as if tied down by invisible restraints. The District Four girl grinned, using the non-pointy end of the trident to slam it into Chrys's skull. She coughed again and Chrys fell forward. She wasn't moving.

"Chrys!" Zander yelped. Neve stood by, arms pinned to her side, just like Chrys.

Where was the Career boy? He could have climbed back in by now?

_Insert Ip, shouting nonsense into dead air_

What's an Ip?

_Gah, nevermind. Just, please, get out of here. I can't carry you all the way outside. I don't have the strength._

Why did he have to possess me then?

Neve shouted. "Haven't you heard the boy on the radio? Your ally is on the roof and the ceiling is about to cave in any second!" She coughed. "Save yourself! Let us go, Bree!"

"Oh, we're on first name basis now. Okay, Ms. Never-Had. I'd love to but your screams are just way too fun. I don't have them getting in the way, either, y'know?"

"Are you insane?" Zander demanded. The District Four girl faced him, a smirk plastered on her face.

She showed her fingers with only a small space between thumb and index. "Just a little."

That was it with Zander. He roared and broke free. The District Four girl's eyes widened and she was slammed to the floor by the angry boy. It gave Neve time to rush over to Chrys, kneel beside the girl, and sit her up. The girl's head fell limply onto Neve's shoulder. The petite girl bit down on her lip. She pulled her hand back and blood was stained over her skin.

I thought back to the moment Chrys shoved the boy out the window. I clenched my jaw. So it was blood I saw.

By now, the whole far wall of the living room was in flames. Plaster poured down onto the group. I gaped for air like a fish out of water.

"Zander!" Neve shouted. "Grab Chrys! We're leaving!"

He turned around and a sputtering, shrill attempt at a scream hissed off my tongue. His face was just so…alarming. Like he wouldn't think twice about grabbing you by the arm and ripping it off. Then his eyes fell on Chrys and his mouth became as taut as a bowstring. He gathered up Chrys in his arms and darted through the kitchen to the back down. Bree lay on the ground, gasping for air.

Neve followed close behind but paused as she found me. Quickly making up her mind, she bent and helped me to my feet. I awkwardly looped my arm behind her neck and allowed her to drag me outside, only pausing to snatch the radio.

Tersely, into my ear, she whispered, "Thank you." I smiled meekly back.

_You're welcome, Dolly._

And he meant it.

_**Zander De La Fuente, District 5**_

We were four houses down the road and Chrys finally spoke.

"I…can't…breathe…."

Without a second thought, I dropped to the ground, cradling Chrys's head in the crook of my arm. Neve popped up beside me. Her hand was caked with blood and she stroked Chrys's hair comfortingly. I glared at the District Three tribute.

"Don't just sit there like some dumb cow," I snapped. "Save her!"

Neve looked up at me and her expression was grave. She had given up. She wasn't going to try.

Impulsively, I slapped her across the face. The sound echoed loudly.

The strange Twelve girl muttered to herself. Her chest rose and fell and her blank eyes stared out onto the street. Dumb bitches, the lot of them!

Neve pressed a hand to her cheek. Tears sparkled in her pale brown eyes but she refused to let them spill over. She clenched her jaw tight. I held Chrys up to her.

"Fucking help her!" I shook Chrys, unable to do anything else. "You're the smart one! _Do you want her to die?"_

"No!" Neve shouted into my face. "I don't want to let anyone else die in this arena so don't you dare think otherwise." The contempt in her face raged a violent war and we glared into each other's eyes with a burning animosity. I was one know-it-all comment away from punching her through a wall or drowning her in a pool like a puppy.

Chrys gripped my wrist, pulling my attention away. She smiled sweetly up, her eyes unable to focus on my face. She whispered something but I had to bend close to hear her. My hand wrapped around her waist and I felt the sticky warmth bleeding from her side. The cut went deep and it wasn't gushing like it should have been. Chrys's face was pale. Her fingers were cold.

"What?"

Softly, Chrys whispered, "I'm sorry, Zander."

My tears betrayed me and a few broke free onto my cheek. "No. I'm sorry. I should have protected you. I should have made you leave out back, fought that District Four guy myself…."

"Shh," she smiled. Her eyes glistened over and she swallowed. Her cannon fired.

I leaned down and kissed her, a real, natural kiss that brought a hunger from deep inside me. It couldn't be satisfied and it left me feeling pained. I wanted somebody and Chrys just drove me nuts. I had pushed for her to just let me…but she rejected me. She pushed me away. She was repulsed. She didn't want me like I wanted her.

I don't think I quite loved Chrys. Maybe as a friend. Definitely not "in love" sort of loved her. But losing her left a major wound. What was the term? "In lust"?

Neve had walked away. She was helping Twelve to her feet.

"This is your fault," I spat. Neve's face was a façade of calm, completely void of emotion. "I hate you."

"If that's how you feel," Neve said. "Then I guess this is where we part." She hefted her new partner's arm farther over her shoulder and stepped back.

"When we meet again," I said. "Don't expect me to fare you any leeway. If I see you, I _will_ kill you."

"May the Games between us begin then," Neve said. She nodded one last time. Finally, she hobbled away.

Only when she was out of earshot did I begin to sob.

**I'll explain what's going on next chapter, please don't be too confused.**

**Edit: Alice Lynn is dead, just realized I forgot to unbold her…ugh.**

Alice Lynn Wonderland, District One_(Killed by mutts)_**  
><strong>Balthizar Demarkos, District One _(Death by curiosity of Annabelle's lights)_**  
>Foe Sterling, District Two<strong>–(Bree, Sandy)**  
><strong>Shale Van Newhouse, District Two _(hammer to the temple from Brandy)_**  
>Neve Hadron, District Three-<strong>(Avara)**  
><strong>Leon Cabler, District Three _(bludgeoned to death by Brandy's hammer)_**  
>Bree Maysee, District Four<strong>–(Foe, Sandy)**  
>Santiago "Sandy" Aquitaine, District Four<strong>–(Foe, Bree)**  
>Brandy Harris, District Five<br>Zander De La Fuente, District Five  
><strong>Lauryn Rivera, District Six_(Throat slit by Chrys)_**  
><strong>Cameron Wynn, District Six _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Silvia Arbres, District Seven _(axed by Cede)_  
>Cede Demeter, District Seven <em>(stabbed by Lupe)<em>**  
><strong>Heather Aurum, District Eight _(Stabbed with trident by Bree)_**  
><strong>Brodric "Bro" Loveless, District Eight _(stabbed by Xavier's ninja star and Lupe's blade)_**  
><strong>Poise Adriona, District Nine _(Blown up by Annabelle's lights)_**  
><strong>Alix Estelle, District Nine_(Throat slit by Zander)_**  
><strong>Annabelle Hallestar, District Ten _(Head bashed in by Alice Lynn's troll)_**  
><strong>Hydran Ash, District Ten _(killed by Santiago)_**  
><strong>Chrysanthemum "Chrys" Gord, District Eleven_(Bled out from wound caused by Santiago, smoke inhalation)_**  
>Lupe Ismene, District Eleven<br>Avara Zenia, District Twelve –**(Neve)**  
>RobinDamion Garven, District Twelve  
><strong>Chelsey Skyeren, District Thirteen _(Burned and stabbed by Foe)_**  
><strong>Xavier Drascal, District Thirteen _(Stabbed by Bree)_


End file.
